


Not in your nurture.

by phobic_nurz



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1895574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phobic_nurz/pseuds/phobic_nurz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alana Bloom gets a wake-up call over Hannibal's true nature and she goes to someone she trusts to keep her safe while she processes everything thats going on.</p>
<p>Diverges from the show's storyline after Shiizakana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sweeter

Chapter 1.

Alana blinked salty water away from her eyes as she reached up to flush away the stomach contents that had rebelled against her. She put a shaky hand to her forehead and wiped away the hair that stuck to her clammy skin. She steadied herself for a moment, one hand against her forehead, the other on the cool porcelain as her heart raced with the effort she had expended. 

"Alana?" Hannibal's deep tone startled her despite it's gentleness. She snapped her head up to meet his gaze and made the room spin slightly, enough to make her regret doing it so quickly. His expression showed concern and interest, but none of the revulsion she might have expected and she might have shown if she came across a crumpled heap of a person throwing up in her bathroom.

"I'd stay there if I were you, I think I have the flu." She croaked. She watched him purse his lips slightly as he regarded her, she couldn't read his expression. 

Ignoring her advice he stepped toward her with a hand extended to help her off the floor. She took it and allowed him to guide her into perching on the near by bathtub as he passed her a glass of water. 

"Slowly." He instructed her as she took it from him. 

She nodded her agreement but did not put the glass to her lips, she wasn't ready yet, she still felt like her stomach was sitting in the back of her throat. 

"I would think it unlikely that you have the flu Alana." He told her taking a position next to her on the bathtub. 

"Oh?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow. 

"We have been ... At times ...a little." He tilted his head as though searching for right word though Alana knew he knew it and was conversationally stalling to drip feed her information, "careless? You could be pregnant."

Alana looked at the floor, feeling his scrutiny on her skin, she met his gaze to reply, "I don't think that's very likely."

"A test is an easy way to find out."

Somehow she expected him to produce one from thin air such was his unflappable nature, every eventuality seemingly covered. When he didn't Alana raised her own eyebrows at him, "I only got sick, I probably have the flu that's all.” Her tone raised up her defensiveness, he sounded as if he had the conversation planned, as if her responses were just a formality so she tried to give him a left field response.

"You don't have a fever." He persisted, a hand pressed to her forehead to illustrate her point.

Alana eased herself up, crossed to the sink and began brushing her teeth to remove the acidic taste. Perhaps ignoring him would put him off track if altering his script would not.

"You've been fatigued."

She gave him eye contact in the mirror as she continued to brush. 

"Your breasts are more firm, your smell is different, you smell warmer, sweeter." He had crossed to stand behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder as he spoke gently against her ear. 

She replaced the toothbrush and spoke to his reflection in the mirror, "I'm going to go home and get some rest, I don't want to pass anything on to you." She told him as she attempted to ignore his contact with her. She felt cold under his touch, not the way she normally felt. His words echoed inside her head, you smell warmer? What the hell was that about? She wasn’t sure but she was sure it made her want to get away from him, and thats what she was going to do.

He raised his hands in a resigning gesture, "Are you sure you're ok to drive? You're looking very pale."

Easing away from him she made for the door, "It's not far, I'll try to get some sleep and call you later?" 

He nodded his assent as she crossed through the door and unlocked her car. She pulled away more sharply than she would have liked, throwing up an arc of gravel from her rear tires. She had just told her first lie to Hannibal Lecter. She had no intention of going home. She was going to a pharmacy then she would decide what to do next. 

 

Will absently ruffled the fur on Winston's head as he sipped coffee. He had been granted rare calm in the midst of their situation and he intended to enjoy it, take solace that moments like this could still exist within the confines of his home. The coffee was pleasantly sharp but not bitter, a sensory counterpoint to the soft fur under his hand. 

The sound of an approaching car alerted him that his small bubble of calm was about to be invaded by the world. He was surprised to recognise it as Alana's, she had not visited him at his home since his attempt on Hannibal's life. Even before this she never visited unannounced unless she was trying to get to him before Jack. From his seat he watched as she released the seatbelt, fumbling as she did so. Despite being at a distance from her he could feel turmoil radiating from her. It was not a sensation he was used to from Alana Bloom, she was one of the most calm and controlled people he had ever spent time with and she somehow made it feel effortless. It was one of the attributes he had valued most about their friendship and flirtation. He decided she didn't need the added strain of waiting for him to answer the door, so he met her there and held it open wide. She answered his unspoken invitation with a weak smile as she passed him. Once inside she seemed to no longer know what she wanted to do and her momentum escaped her. She stood absentmindedly petting Winston who placed his head against her hip in greeting. 

"Alana?" He questioned softly. 

She turned toward him at the sound of her name, seemingly just registering his presence. 

"Sorry,..., I'm sorry for just showing up." She told him. 

He nodded, taking in her appearance. She appeared almost startled. Her face was pale and tired looking and unusually there was little sparkle in the gaze that eventually met his. She looked as though it was costing her effort to hold herself upright, or hold herself together, WIll could not decide which.

"You don't look so good, why don't you come and sit down." He suggested. 

She followed him wordlessly and sat, her gaze remaining in the middle distance. 

"Coffee?" He asked her stupidly, not really knowing what else to say to her. 

She gave a small shake of her head, "Just water would be good."

After a quick search of his cupboards for an acceptable glass he placed the drink down in front of her and took a seat beside her. Normally he wouldn't choose to sit next to her, instead he would sit opposite where they could see one another openly. He felt this wasn't the best approach in this instance. 

Will held his silence as he watched Alana wrestle with her words and with the motivation and clarity to say them, finally she raised her gaze to him, "Will, I'm pregnant." She told him, bluntly quietly. 

He physically felt her words for a moment before his brain fully processed them, he hoped he had been able to maintain the neutral expression on his face and had not displayed his feelings. 

"Does he know?"

Alana shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, "I haven't told him."

"But he knows."

Alana pushed a tear off her cheek, "Probably. I got sick, I thought maybe I had the flu or something. He told me...he said...he said he could smell it, that I smelled different."

"When was that?"

Alana looked around for a clock, "A few hours ago, maybe."

"You did a test and came straight here?"

"What he said, it frightened me. It sounded more like the Hannibal you described than the one I thought I knew." She told him. She could not articulate her sudden lucidity in his presence anymore than that. 

"No emotional response just analysis, using attributes we might assign to livestock, not partners." He maintained a neutral tone, it used up a lot of effort to do so. 

"Something similar to how you're responding now." She told him flatly. 

Will pushed himself up from the table abruptly and looked out the window away from Alana, "Oh I have an emotional response Alana, don't worry about that, I'm just choosing not to burden you with it right now. Just because I control what I express does NOT mean it's not there." Despite himself he raised his voice in his last sentence and instantly regretted it.

"Sorry." 

"I know."

"He shows no emotion because he's a sociopath." She stated. 

"He has none. Not in the traditionally accepted sense." He agreed, returning to the table side seat. He saw Alana's posture relax a little, she shifted her weight so she was leaning against the table, "Why did you come here?" 

She sighed, "Because in that moment I knew you were right Will. And because I didn't know what else to do."

He nodded, surveying the kitchen as he fought the urge to touch the hand she had left laying in his direction on the table. He turned his attention back to Alana. She was slumped in on herself as if unable to bare her own weight, her usually impeccable posture slack, she looked, well, broken. 

He took her hand anyway. She looked up in surprise. 

"I'm not sure I have any advice that's any better than my original stance." He told her. 

"Stay away from Hannibal Lecter." She intoned, remembering their conversation, "seems a little late for that at this point."

"Do you have somewhere safe you can go to GET away from Hannibal Lecter?" He asked her, allowing himself to feel comfortable with his touch on her hand. She hadn't made any attempt to move away, he was glad. 

"He was my mentor, there's no where I could go that he doesn't know about. I already came to a place I consider safe." She flushed slightly, embarrassed to admit that view. 

"I'm flattered. And I hope I can live up to that for you better than I did for myself."

Alana shook her head as stood, "I'm sorry will, I shouldn't have put this on you. I should go."

Will was surprised when he reached out to her, quickly taking hold of her wrist. "No, stay. I don't want you to be alone. All the time you've been with him I've been going out of my mind wondering if you're safe. I'd appreciate it if you stayed."

"Thank you." She said softly, sitting back down. 

"You're welcome." He replied equally softly, "Did you eat yet today?"

Alana tilted her head with a slight smile, "In a fashion."

"Oh, want to try again? Something plain?"

"Sure." She expressed more enthusiasm than she felt. 

They worked in silence, careful of one another's space. Alana prepared herself toast and butter, unable to entertain the bacon Will had prepared himself. She chewed slowly trying to ignore the nausea. She told herself it was just in her head, but knew her earlier violent sickness was not. 

"Do you want me to take you to your place to pick up some clothes?" An assumed invitation to stay where she felt safe. 

"I have an over night bag in my truck. Are you sure Will?"

"Of course. I'll take the couch."

"No, I can't kick you out of your own bed." She protested. 

"And I can't let a pregnant lady sleep on the couch." He countered. 

Alana lowered her gaze to her plate, she felt embarrassed, like a silly school girl. 

Will read her perfectly, "You've nothing to be as ashamed of Alana."

"Stupid teenagers get pregnant by accident, not psychiatrists in their thirties Will." She admonished herself out loud. 

"Well, clearly that is not the case. You are not stupid." He told her with no room for doubt in his tone. 

"I feel it."

"Alana, you're not stupid. He's an incredibly charismatic man, whom you've known and trusted for a long time."

She nodded and gave him a weak smile in acknowledgement of his attempts to reassure her. She observed his demeanour as subtly as she could. He seemed as at ease as she had ever seen him. For a man whom a year ago struggled with socialising by his own admission, to feel relaxed with her here under these circumstances was testament to how much adjustment he had done and how much their lives had altered. Was she ready to bring a baby into the middle of this situation? Was she even sure what this situation was? She had to admit that she wasn't. Being in the middle of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter had messed with her head and her judgement more than she thought possible. She had known Lecter longer than Will, and been more intimate, and yet here, with Will she felt safe. Earlier, the way Hannibal had spoken made her skin crawl. He seemed to have no insight in the way he spoke to her and it was as if his mask was falling away. She suddenly realised she had been fooled by an excellent disguise, that he had pursued a relationship with her only to his own end. She wondered what that end was. Ultimately she felt it was more to do with the ongoing power struggle with Will. Perhaps he had meant to throw Will off balance, remove his support system. What would do that better than tying her up with an unplanned pregnancy? Probably the most effective cut besides actually killing her. 

If she hadn't fallen pregnant within his timeframe would she have met with an unpleasant end? Might she still?

"Not hungry?" Will's gentle voice brought her back from her thoughts. 

Alana wrinkled her nose regarding the toast in her fingers, realising she had only had a couple of bites. Despite this she felt it sitting heavy on her stomach and placed the rest back on the plate. She could feel concern radiating from Will and wanted to reassure him but she didn't know how. She felt lost, adrift, she knew she had to let herself feel it before she would be able to process it and start to think rationally. From what little she knew of pregnancy she didn't imagine the wash of hormones would help that process. 

"Not really." She admitted, pushing the plate away slightly. 

Will followed suit, "How about a walk? The dogs are always up for fresh air."


	2. Company

 

The outside air felt good to them both, though it was on the cold side of crisp. Somehow being outdoors had always enabled them both to feel able to talk more freely. Alana surmised it was the removal of associations with directed therapeutic interaction. Behaviour was harder to discern and analyse in an environment where there was less to react to. As a result she had always felt less analysed and more free outdoors. She observed that Will appeared to feel the same, some of the most honest moments of their relationship to date had occurred outdoors. 

Will observed Alana as he amused the dogs throwing sticks and having them returned. He had always felt her to be graceful and feminine, she continued to exhibit these characteristics. She wore a long skirt and simple pumps, both poorly suited to the terrain really but she never made anything look like hard work. Unusually her hair was not fully down as he had observed to wear it the majority of the time, she had the top half pulled back in a toothed clip. He wondered if this had been a concession to her vomiting, a compromise to keep it out of her way. Her scarf hung loosely about her neck, it's edges catching the breeze and drawing his attention, changing direction in time with the wisps of hair that caught the same currents. Her expression remained neural, he had rarely seen her display her mood in her face. Her careful control could not disguise her frequent blinking, or the dark smudges beneath her eyes, symptoms of the fatigue she felt but did not, and would not, vocalise. 

They came to a fallen tree, Will indicated with an outstretched hand that the trunk was a good place to sit. Alana followed his lead and sat, looking out across the field as the dogs ran back and forth bringing sticks, looking for attention and chasing one another. 

"How do you feel?" Will asked her. 

"Confused." She answered simply.

"I can understand that. Events moving too quickly for you to grasp, feeling conflicted."

"What should I do Will?"

"I can't answer. You have to do what feels right for you."

She snorted, "Because what feels right to me seems to be working so well for us both where Hannibal is concerned."

"Don't let him make you start second guessing yourself. We need to be aware of him, but you need to do what's best for you." He told her.

"I'm not sure I know what that is. I wasn't really considering having a baby."

Will held his silence, allowing her the room to think and verbalise her thoughts safely.

"And I'm certainly aware these are not the best circumstances. But I'm not sure I could go through with a termination." 

Will paused to ensure she didn't have anything else she needed to say, to him or to herself, before replying, "When we...kissed...you told me you think too much to date. This isn't dating, you need to cut through what you think and let yourself feel. How do you feel about being pregnant? After you acknowledge that then you can think about it, the practicalities but if you go against your own feelings no amount of rationalisation will ever change the damage you do to yourself."

"I feel nauseated. Beyond that I'm not sure I'm feeling anything right now.”

“OK, that’s a start. Will he try to contact you? Or how long until he’ll try to contact you? That’s your biggest deadline right now.”

She shrugged, “I’m not sure, I told him I was going home to rest, he might try to check in on me, realise I’m not there.”

“You can head that off, send him a message to say you’re staying with your brother, they all have the stomach flu, you think that’s where you caught it.”

“I have patients to see.”

“You’re out sick for a while, I don’t think it would be a good idea to let him catch you unawares.”

“No it wouldn’t, he has caught me unaware enough already. Can I stay with you for a couple of nights? He won’t be coming out here?”

“I don’t think so, we’ll put your car in the barn, out of sight, OK?”

She nodded, “Thank you.” she said quietly, picking absently at frayed bark on the trunk they sat on.

Will passed her a can of soda, “If you can’t eat right now you have to drink something sugary.”

“Thank you Doctor Graham.” she smiled.

“I just don’t want you passing out, I don’t work out like I used to.”

“Will, it’s sugar free soda.” she laughed.

“Oh, I selected a caffeine free soda, current research suggests that a high caffeine intake is linked with a higher incidence of miscarriage. I didn’t notice it was sugar free too.”

“Are you auditioning to be my OB?” she asked him with a smile.

“Urm, no. I’m not sure I could ever look you in the eye again if I had to perform that sort of examination on you.”

“You don’t look me, or anyone else, in the eye anyway Will.” she laughed.

“True, but that seemed more polite than telling you that it wasn’t the circumstances under which I’ve considered getting your clothes off.” he told her, deadpan.

“You’ve considered under what circumstance that might happen often?” she asked him with an equally straight face.

“A guy has to amuse himself somehow when he’s in an asylum for the criminally insane.”

She laughed out loud at that, “Well, now it’s my turn to be flattered.”

“Don’t be, Jack is just not the best option for that sort of consideration.”

“Now I can’t look him in the eye, thanks.”

“Come on,” Will said, pushing himself up to his feet and extending an exaggeratedly chivalrous hand to Alana, “I’m hungry, lets order take out. If you’re going to throw it up you may as well eat something that tastes good. Or at least better than my cooking.”

 

They sat side by side with the greasy, cheesy pizza on the table in front of them. At first Alana had been cautious, but her appetite soon kicked in and she began eating enthusiastically, even though pizza was not something she regularly allowed herself.

“This is nice.” she commented.

“The pizza?” Will queried.

“All of this, the fire, the pizza, your pack. It feels, relaxed.”

“Stable?” he challenged.

Alana smiled at his sarcasm, “Intensely stable Will.”

“So you are good for me after all. Whether I am good for you I will leave to your discretion.”

“I didn’t think that dating ground rules would be our chosen topic of conversation this evening.” she admitted.

“Well, I am open to a change of conversational topic, I just thought that it was worth mentioning.”

“It is duly noted that you are increasing in stability and willing to express dating interest in a woman who got herself knocked up by another man.” She inventoried for him with a smile.

“Well, good. Make sure you add knows how to order great take out to that list of things in my favour.” he said as he gestured to the now empty pizza box in front of them. He tried to ignore how attractive she looked in the half light and dressed in a way he had never seen her before. He had lent her some running bottoms and a t-shirt which looked frankly amazing on her, and she had swept her hair back into a messy ponytail.

“Will,” she said hesitantly, “I was’t entirely fair to you when I said I wouldn’t consider it because you are, were, unstable.”

“It’s OK, Alana, I was unstable. I was drowning in the cases, in Lecter, in myself. You were right.”

“Maybe, but for the wrong reasons.” she admitted, “You once asked if you were too broken to date, you aren’t Will, I am. I have had…bad experiences in the past, that’s why I over analyse everything I want to see whats coming. It minimises my anxiety if I feel like I can. I value your friendship too much to expose you to what I’m like in a relationship.”

“You felt like you could anticipate with Hannibal?” he asked her, aware he was shifting the focus off their relationship and onto her and Hannibal.

She nodded, “He has been in my life almost as long as I can remember, I know how he is in relationships.”

“He treats women as beautiful, prized.”

“Collectable, I realise now.” she added.

“I feel like there’s a disclosure in there somewhere, Alana.” he said softly.

She pulled her knees up toward herself, a typical protective posture they both knew but she couldn’t stop herself from doing it regardless. She tiled her head to one side and looked up at Will, she was startled to see him looking into her eyes. The gesture obviously surprised him too as a brief startled expression fleeted across his face when she locked gazes with him.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Alana. It doesn’t matter to me, what’s in your past.” he reassured her.

She pursed her lips in consideration, “Our past bleeds into our present, we can’t stop recall.”

“No, we can’t but we can be aware of it. And for the record, even as a someone who specialises in behavioural analysis I’ve rarely seen you exhibit signs of anxiety of any of sort.” he silently added, until today.

“That’s because we haven’t dated.” she told him.

He nodded, "OK, well you know can tell me anything you want. But equally you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. And to add to your record, I appreciate your concern but if I am not too broken to date then I am not too broken to take the associated risks, of being hurt and having my boundaries challenged.”

“My history with Hannibal influenced my relationship with him, you and probably some of his interest in you.”

Hesitantly she took her hand, “Alana, you have enough going on, you don’t owe me anything. Whatever you want to disclose or not is fine, whatever may or may not happen between the two of us is not a consideration for tonight.”

Alana tried to turn away as she felt tears pricking her eyes, Will gently placed a hand on her cheek and turned her head back toward him, she gave a tiny shake of her head as she fought to keep her tears in check, “Will, don’t…be nice…I can’t…”

“Sssshhh.” he eased her in closer as she broke down. Eventually she slowly relaxed against him and allowed herself to cry openly. She ended up laying in his lap facing away from him. Just a few months ago he couldn’t have entertained this type of contact with her, or anyone, and he took a brief moment to appreciate that allowing that change felt good and not as uncomfortable as he had ever imagined it would. After a while Alana’s gentle sobs ceased and he noticed her breathing become slower and deeper, he realised she had fallen asleep. Reaching around the back of the sofa he gently laid a blanket over her and watched her sleep.

After an hour or so Alana stirred against his thigh, he should feel her blinking to clear her head, probably disoriented from sleep. Slowly she turned toward him, her expression was shy, a little embarrassed.

“Sorry.” she muttered.

He shook his head, “You need to stop apologising. There’s no need.”

“I feel like there is. I’ve disrupted your whole life.”

“My life was already disrupted, it’s nice to have some company, even if she does snore.” he smiled down at her as he spoke.

Her eyes widened in horror and she covered her face with her hands, though she still made no attempt to get up and break the contact between them, “No, tell me I didn’t snore.”

“Well, quite some time ago I promised honesty, as did you so, I’m sorry to have to tell you that you do indeed snore.”

Lowering her hands she looked up into his face unsure what to say. He leaned forward so their faces were closer together, “Alana?” he said softly, again giving her eye contact.

“Yes?” she whispered, afraid she would frighten him away.

“Can I get up? I have had to pee pretty badly for the last half hour.”

She shot up, looking even more embarrassed, though she hadn’t thought that would be possible. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze as he rose, his bladder preventing him from lingering any longer. 

Alana had always felt vaguely awkward with the idea of overhearing people in the bathroom, and other people potentially overhearing her, so she turned her attention to the television and vacantly cycled through channels not paying a lot of attention to what the screen displayed. She startled slightly when Will reentered.

“You’re a flicker? Never would have pegged you for for an incessant channel hopper.”

She shrugged, "I can’t concentrate on anything.”

“Another good reason to be out sick for a little while.” he said as he sat back beside her, “Are you OK? I mean, you have had your doubts about me since I was released.”

She didn’t know quite how to answer, “I’m concerned about your relationship with Hannibal, but I feel safe here with you. I think I’m confused about most things Will.”

He nodded thoughtfully, “I can understand that. Hannibal…he, gets inside your head, makes everything…subjective.”

“Right and wrong is not subjective.”

“Not to you.” he told her.

“What are you saying Will?”

“I’m saying that he’s played us both, but we’re not the ones being played anymore. I needed you be concerned about my relationship with Hannibal.”

“Well, I was, I am but in a different way now. Don’t put yourself at risk, any kind of risk Will.” she told him.

“I have to finish it.”   
“I can understand that.” she sighed deeply and rubbed her forehead, allowing her eyes to drift close for a second to clear her vision.

He regarded her with concern, “You have to stay away from Hannibal, Alana. If he has an inkling about this it’s over and I’m not sure that any of us will survive it.”

She nodded solemnly, eventually resting her head against the back of the sofa tiredly, “he really killed all those people didn’t he?” she whispered. Though she said the words, she could not even begin to comprehend their full meaning, for any of them. She felt tired right through to her bones, she couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before, but she reasoned she had never been in this situation before. Abruptly she became aware of Will’s close scrutiny, had he been speaking to her?

“Where did you go?” he asked her gently.

She shook her head slightly, “I was with Hannibal all night the night that Gideon…”

“You slept at some point?” he hoped, he wasn’t in the mood to hear that she and Hannibal had been performing sexual aerobics all night long.

“Yes, but I would have woken if he had left the house, and certainly if he had dragged Gideon back there with him.”

Will cleared his throat, “He has form on using mind altering drugs, therapeutically and for his own reasons.”

Alana looked shocked, “You think I saw it and he drugged the memories out of me?”

Will shrugged, “Or simply drugged you, you’d been drinking at his party? Probably wouldn’t have been so hard to simply slip a sedative to you at some point.”

“He brought me a drink, before we went to sleep…”she trailed off.

Will extended a hand in a ‘there you go’ gesture while Alana visibly paled.

“I feel sick.” she muttered.

“He did it so he didn’t have to hurt you, in his mind he was taking care of you.”

“No, I mean, I’m gonna throw up-“ she told him as pushed past him abruptly and bolted for the bathroom. She didn’t have time to shut the door behind her properly before she was on her knees on the tiled floor coughing and retching into the toilet as her stomach emptied it’s self. She gripped the cool porcelain as the retching continued long after she had nothing left to give up. Once the dry heaves subsided she became more aware of her surroundings and realised that Will had followed her into the bathroom and was gently watching her. She flushed the toilet and raised her head to find a damp facecloth in Will’s extend hand. Gratefully she took it and pressed it against her clammy forehead.

“Thanks.” she croaked, her throat burning from the effort and from the acid.

“Sure.” he motioned her back down as she tried to stand, “Wait a minute, i don’t want you passing out.”

He sat on the floor near by, his back against the bath and she shifted to sit by him for a moment.

“I don’t know how or why my mother did this four times.” she said.

“Maybe you forget the bad stuff?”

“Even if the father is a killer? And some form of as yet undefined sociopath?”

“I don’t think that has any impact on how much you throw up, other than stress hormones increasing your susceptibility to nausea.”

She brought her knee up toward her and rested her forehead against them, closing her eyes. Will instinctively placed his hand flat on her back, gently smoothed it against her spine, slowly up and down, tracing the line of her vertebrae.

"If nothing else it could be an interesting nature versus nurture study." She told him.

"You think too much."

She nodded barely perceptibly, "I think too much to raise a murder's child, and I think to much to have a termination and ever get past it," she agreed, "I have catch twenty-two'ed myself."

"He did this, Alana." Will reassured her.

"He did this because I let him. I made myself an easy target, now I have to deal with it. Somehow."

"You are not alone."

"I should be. I deserve to be."

Will slipped his hand further up her back to the back of her neck and cupped her cheek, she leaned into his touch, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed.

"No, you don't. You aren't and you won't be. Come on, let's get off this floor and get some sleep."

She nodded silently and allowed him to pull her to her feet and steady her as the room spun about her.

"Not feeling any better?" He asked.

"No, just empty I think." She told him.

"Come on." He indicated with a nod of his head and led her out of the bathroom toward the bedroom. Her eyes shone in the half light, tears threatening again, her face a contradiction. Flushed cheeks, probably from the effort of vomiting, her lips now dead pale, wiped of any trace of her usual lipstick and dark bags hung under her eyes. He ignored her attempts at protest as he led her to his bedroom and assured her the sheets were clean, though her face confirmed she couldn't have cared less if the sheets had been dragged through the woods at this point she still needed to lay down and give up consciousness. He pulled back the covers with flourish and she sat on the edge of the bed, sense looked small and lost as she perched there.

"I'm going to turn the TV off and read for a while, I'm not tired yet." He told her, watching Winston push past him to curl up on the bottom of the bed, "sorry, I'll get him down."

She shook her head, "Its fine, I like the company. You can read in here, if you like, if Winston leaves you any room. I'm ...umm...feeling a little paranoid, company would be good." She admitted.

He nodded his understanding, "Let me get us both a glass of water and we can both get changed, I'll check all the locks and stuff." He told her disappearing through the door frame.

Alana padded across the room to where will had stowed her overnight bag and pulled out a set of pyjamas. She changed quickly incase Will cam back in though she couldn't imagine he would barge through the door even though it was his bedroom. She was slipping under the covers when Will knocked and gingerly entered, a glass of water in each hand and a thick novel under his arm.

"Hey." She said as he placed a glass down beside her then returned himself to the other side of the bed. He questioned her with a raise of his eyebrows and she nodded her consent before he propped himself up at the headboard, switching the overheard light off and turning on a small lamp.

"All secure," he told her, "is this light bothering you?"

"No." She told him through a yawn as she lay down, allowing her fatigue to dictate her actions. 

"Get some sleep." He told her, pulling blanket up over her and pointedly turning his attention to the book in his hands.


	3. Lab work

Murky morning light pierced Alana's vision as she floated between sleep and waking. She allowed herself to drift into consciousness gently, and she slowly opened her eyes to take in her surroundings. Will's bedroom was remarkably plain, a testament to his minimalist and practical decorating style that was a direct contrast to Hannibal's. The bed at her side was cool and she wondered when Will left, she hoped he hadn't opted to sleep on the sofa out of some chivalrous impulse. She turned herself over, already aware of the dragging nausea that had plagued her the previous few days. She didn't suppose she could look forward to that ending anytime soon. Sighing, Alana swung her feet to the floor and padded to the kitchen where she found Will busying himself with dog food, and what she presumed to be coffee.

"Morning." He said as she slid into a chair behind the table.

"Hey." She replied as she absently stroked applesauce's head while Winston looked on with as near to a jealous expression as a dog could muster.

Will placed a steaming cup down in front of her, "Tea," he told her, "decaf of course."

"Thanks." She said as she leaned over and regarded the hot liquid. She sniffed gingerly, wondering if it would intensify her nausea, it didn't so she took a tentative sip.

Will sat opposite her and waited for her attention. He looked a little pensive, "I would like to suggest something."

"OK." She replied reflexively.

"It's possible Hannibal was dosing you. I think you should get a tox screen."

Alana was surprised and couldn't help but share that expression on her face, "I'm not sure I can do that without him finding out."

"I can take you into the lab and draw the sample myself, put it through the system anonymously. He won't know."

"You've thought about this." She said, shocked.

"Yes, Alana, certain sedatives-"

"Can cause a false positive on a pregnancy test." She interrupted.

“Yes." He answered, "It's unlikely, but we should draw a beta HCG level too. Just to be sure."

She nodded, "OK. What about jack? Won't he notice?"

Will shrugged, "I'll take care of him, don't worry. He doesn't need to know. Zeller owes me one, or he thinks he does, he'll run it under Jack's radar."

"Really, what does he owe you for? Or think he owes you for?"

Will smiled as he told her, "For running and believing all the evidence that I was the Chesapeake ripper."

Alana pushed herself up to go get dressed, "Surely we all owe you on that front."

"None more than Hannibal Lecter and he's the only one I'm interested in ensuring a payout from."

 

Alana consented to Will driving them both to the lab only because she knew her current lack of concentration would have made her an unsuitable driver. She wrung her hands together and chewed on her bottom lip attempting not to shift in her seat.

"Alana," Will said without taking his eyes off the road, "I can feel your anxiety from here, you don't need to attempt to curtail any behavioural traits to try to hide it. It's probably a stressor you don't need; to worry about how I'm interpreting your behaviour."

She nodded, "I just...I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"There's no rule book for this. Do what you feel."

"I feel like throwing up again." She told him miserably.

"OK, but you pay for the valet if you do it in my car." He told her with a smile.

"Don't worry I'm pretty sure I have nothing left."

"Tempting fate there?" He laughed.

They swung into the parking garage and Will killed the engine after a reassurance that Hannibal was across town at a standing appointment with Margot Verger. His appointment allocation system played to their advantage this morning, allowing the visit to the lab to go without his notice, hopefully.

Alana closed the car door with a slam and took a deep breath, as she walked beside Will to the elevator she felt the urge to take hold of his hand for stability, she fought the impulse and stared intently at her boots as she walked. They boarded the empty elevator and she allowed Will to select their floor, as he returned from the panel he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze without making eye contact. She let go of a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and tried to relax her jaw and shoulders suddenly becoming aware she was wound as tight as a spring.

Will left her in an empty technicians office while he collected equipment. She was surprised that it took him only a few minutes, and pleased, as she had spent the entire time pacing the floor.

He motioned that she should sit down and he took the stool opposite. She removed her cardigan to leave her arms bare and let him inspect her inner arm for useable venepuncture sites.

"The left is usually best." She told him.

He nodded, "OK then." He said as he slipped a tourniquet around her upper arm, "Make a fist," he instructed before looking up at her, "Are you squeamish?"

She shook her head with a slight smile, "No, I could have done it myself if I weren't left handed."

Her skin felt cold as he cleaned it with an alcohol wipe, she could smell the vapour rising off it, intense in her nostrils. Will opened and uncapped the needle.

"Sharp scratch." He warned her before piercing her skin with the needle, she saw the flashback as he attached the first blood bottle and it began to fill, he reached up and released the tourniquet with his free hand.

"Nice, first time." She said.

He switched bottles and smiled, "Yeah you never forget how to do it once you've practiced on an ER rotation."

Removing the needle he pressed a cotton wool ball to her skin to stop the blood flow, Alana added her own fingers to take over, surveying the damage.

Will held up the bottle for her inspection, "I'll go give these to Zeller, should only take a couple of hours, I'll find somewhere for us to kill the time."

"You don't have to babysit me Will." She sighed.

"I'm not, you're babysitting me."

Will informed her that Jack Crawford had travelled out of state to research some previous murders so Will and Alana holed up in his office to wait for the lab results to come in. Alana busied herself looking through case files from the Chesapeake ripper murders, trying to find something, anything that would make sense of their situation. Even though she felt it, her mental processes continued to have difficulty linking the man she had shared so much with, her thoughts, her confidence, her bed, with the horrific acts in front of her.

"What are you looking for?" Will asked her, handing her a Popsicle while he unwrapped his own.

"I wasn't looking for a Popsicle, but thanks." She smiled.

"My mother used to give them to me when my stomach was upset." He told her, "What are you looking for?"

"I'm not a profiler." She told him, knowing she as evading the question and that he would see it immediately.

“You don’t work as one but you’re more than qualified, and you certainly have enough knowledge and experience to profile this case." He told her.

Alana took a moment to let her thoughts crystallise, "I'm looking for Hannibal. For any hint of the man I thought I knew in these crimes."

"He's very skilled at keeping this separate."

"Are you positing a multiple personality?"

"No, just observing that he is extremely skilled at keeping the aspects of his life apart."

"With the exception of drugging me into being his alibi the first night we slept together so he could chop a man's leg off?" She realised she was raising her voice but couldn't stop herself.

"Gideon? That was...? OK." Will muttered.

"Sorry, TMI as my niece would say."

Will sat on the desk in front of her, forcing her to sit back to see him properly.

"I didn't know you had a niece."

"No." She confirmed, "I keep my family out of these halls if I can. It feels like I'm bringing them into it if I do. Or maybe it's just a non-disclosure holdover from clinical work."

"I'm not your patient Alana."

"No but I'm beginning to feel like yours." She admitted.

He laughed, "Well, that must be interesting considering your recent assessment of my mental status."

Alana frowned, "I don't think I'm in the position to be assessing anyone. I don't feel like I know anything anymore."

"I know," will said softly, "but that will pass. It's just shock."

Alana nodded as she leafed through the papers spread before them, finishing the last of her Popsicle before throwing the wrapper into the bin. Will followed suit.

"Good choice." She told him.

"One of the few I have made recently." He told her as he leafed through the files between them. He knew they were both lacking focus and that could be dangerous, he needed to snap his back onto Hannibal. He wondered if it was narcissistic to assume that Hannibal's actions toward Alana at this time were specifically designed to loosen Will's focus on catching Hannibal, especially since as far as far he was supposed to be aware Will had none of those aspirations. Perhaps Alana's pregnancy was meant to be a trigger to set her up as a victim for Will, was jealousy too base a motive for Hannibal to utilise? Seemed a little unsophisticated for his usual style.

Alana’s head snapped up as Zeller wrapped on the door with an anonymous yet ominous envelope in his hand, she attempted to keep her anxiety off her face but wasn’t entirely sure she succeeded in that.

“Hey Dr Bloom, I didn’t realise you were here.” he told her as he handed what she assumed were her results to Will, “Ooh you’re going over Chesapeake files? Jack had them earlier-“

“Thanks we’ll catch up with you both later.” Will interrupted him as he used his eye movement to indicate the door.

Alana felt her anxiety rising, “You told me he wasn’t here, that this was between us.”

“It is Alana, but there is more going on here than just this. He doesn’t know about the details but he does know we’re both here.”

Alana silenced herself for a moment to give her thoughts time to quiet, she needed to order them before she could articulate anything to Will. Every impulse in her body told her to just leave, get up and leave all of this, all of them, “You lied to me, you lied to Jack, we’re all lying to Hannibal. What actually is the truth here?”

She saw Will take a moment to collect his own thoughts before deliberately meeting her gaze, she tried to reign in her emotions, knowing that he would pick up on them immediately and she knew she had failed when she saw her own anxiety and turbulence reflected back to her in his expression.

“I have been baiting Hannibal, with Jack’s knowledge, allowing him to think he has been able to incite me to murder, in the hope that he will trust me enough to commit a murder with me, at which point I will arrest him.”

She was silent for a beat, her mouth hanging open slightly, “You warned me…to stay away.”

“But I couldn’t ensure it, and I couldn’t tell you so long as you and he were…involved. He’d be able to read you, you wouldn’t have been able to keep it from him, and it would have put you in danger.”

Alana pressed her lips into a thin line as she let his words sink in. She turned her gaze downwards to the floor and examined her shoes, “I wouldn’t have believed you anyway, you were right not to involve me.”

She felt rather than saw a brief nod of his head in agreement. She examined her hands as they lay in her lap, Will gently placed the forgotten envelope into her hands, “I wish I could keep you out of it.”

“You’re not responsible for my choices, I put myself here.” She whispered as she transferred the envelope back to him, “You do it.”

Will cleared his throat as he tore open the envelope and unfolded the printed lab strip, he examined the side of Alana’s face as a delaying tactic, wondering if she was going to raise her face to him, she didn’t.

He cleared his throat again as he prepared to read out the results in his hands, “Tox panel shows levels of benzodiazepines consistent with recent administration, within the last two weeks.” he cleared his throat again and shifted his position, he looked for any reaction but she gave none, “Beta-HCG levels in excess of six thousand…which indicates pregnancy beyond six weeks gestation.”

Alana squeezed her eyes shut and rested her head against her hands, propped up against the desk in front of them. Her ears rung with his words and she felt her heart racing, making her breath catch in her throat, “Jesus Christ,” she whispered, she could feel Will’s tension and his uncertainly of what to do beside her, but she couldn't deal with it just now, “He drugged me. And he continued to drug me after I was pregnant.”

“He may have drugged you to…get you pregnant.”

She shook her head, “He….ah…we…umm…”

“Occasionally got carried away, got it.”

Alana raised her head to face Will, her face was virtually blank, wiped of any emotion, she looked utterly defeated and he didn't know what to do to help her.

“The drugs…the baby.” she murmured.

He nodded, “Benzo’s can cause cleft lip and palate.You should get an ultrasound, for dating, and for an anomaly check.”

She nodded, “I need some time.” Alana whispered, her fingers pressed against her lips.

“Of course, come on, I’m taking you home.”

She nodded as she rose, “I need to get out of here.”

She followed Will through the door, blindly, a shadow in his wake, a shadow of herself she felt. She almost walked straight into him when he stopped abruptly, she raised her head to see what had caused his distraction, her heart sank when her vision rested on Jack Crawford. He looked neither shocked, nor enthusiastic to see her there, he looked rather that he was taking stock of her, Will, and the two of them together.

“Will, Alana.” he said simply and continued past them down the corridor.

She exhaled, “I need to get out of here.” she reasserted, feeling Jack’s eyes on them all the way to the elevator doors.

Back at Will’s car she flopped into the relative safety of the passenger seat and let her posture go slack, no longer having the energy to maintain it. She starred into the distance, unfocused, as Will drove in silence. At least, she assumed he did. If he attempted to share conversation it did not pierce her consciousness.

Arriving back at his home Alana followed him inside, the invitation unspoken and unnecessary. She sat on the sofa, still unable to process what her next move should be. Will sat on the coffee table in front of her, his face creased in concern for her.

“Can I do anything?” he ask quietly, slowly as if speaking to a timid creature that might startle, she supposed she was.

“Thanks, but no.” she attempted to reassure him.

“You’re exhausted, in shock, lay down and watch TV for a while.” he told her as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to a laying position.

She thought about protesting then felt the aching weight of her own body as she lay and allowed it to hold her down, she let her head fall against the pillow with a sigh of resignation and closed her eyes.


	4. Double tap

A muted voice drifted into her half-awake state, unwilling to let go of the comfort of darkness she tried to push it away. It returned, her senses stirring, whoever was talking was trying to do so quietly but was carrying on a fairly animated discussion she could tell from the tones. Allowing herself to wake more fully she tried to pick out words, but none made sense to her, abruptly the stream of conversation ceased and she stretched as she opened her eyes to orientate herself, sensing sleep would not come again easily.

Twilight greeted her eyes, a low fire burning, applesauce was lazily gazing at her from a rug which was not hers. Will’s, she remembered, she was at Will’s place. A dizzying bombardment of memories reminded her exactly why she was here as she sought to make sense of where her limbs were. One arm remained tucked under her head, from the lack of sensation she judged she had slept like that for some time, twisting her neck she noted her other arm lay across her waist. Her hand was spread protectively across her lower abdomen and she regarded it as something alien to herself. It was not an impulse she consciously felt but clearly somewhere in her subconscious, or unconscious mind she was aware of the impulse to protect the small presence within her. Sensing Will’s eye’s on her she looked up to see him peeking nervously.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” he told her, placing a steaming cup of tea down in front of her, “but since I did.” he gestured to the offering.

She felt conscious of her hand on her abdomen and wanted to move it. She wondered if he had noticed, what he though about it, what he thought about all of this. He had been forthcoming in some areas and exquisitely tight lipped in others.

“Thanks.” she said as she sat up, too quickly as it turned out because the room spun and rippled around her and she was forced to close her eyes and take some deep breaths to force it back into order.

“Alright?” he asked.

She nodded, more cautiously this time, “Just sat up too fast.” she sipped at the tea as he took a seat beside her. She pushed down the urge to curl into him, she craved physical touch for reassurance but knew it was unfair to expect that of Will.

“That was Jack on the phone. I didn’t tell him anything, just that you’re aware of whats going on.”

“Thank you. How long did I sleep?”

“A couple of hours.” he told her, actually it had been more like three and he had checked to make sure she was still breathing a few times.

"I need to pull myself together." She sighed, "I can't spend my days hiding out and sleeping on your sofa."

"Why not?" He challenged. 

"I have patients who rely on me." She told him. 

"You can't help them if you don't look after yourself." He half-scolded her.

She shrugged, "You've never heard of compartmentalising?"

He smiled softly, "Yeah, just never been all that good at it."

"Me either." She admitted.

Abruptly he reached for her hand, "Come on, I've got a fire going outside. Let's go get some fresh air." He pulled her up, seemingly at ease with their contact.

She followed him, enjoying the feel of a soft touch against her hand. His touch was more tender than she expected. She didn't know really what she expected, she wasn't sure if this was always his way or if he was treating her with kid gloves because of this situation. He led her to two chairs positioned around a crackling fire pit. She had no idea how he'd managed to do this while she slept. She had never considered herself a heavy sleeper but she was starting to prove herself wrong. Slumping into the chair she smiled as Will handed her a glass of iced water then returned to the kitchen. He came back with two foil parcels on a plate and a bowl of salad.

"When did you do all this?" She smiled.

"While you were sleeping." 

"Thank you." She said opening the parcels with interest.

"It's just chicken and paprika. I didn't think a repeat of anything greasy was a good idea, seemed not to go down too well."

"Staying down was the problem." She smiled with a slight cringe.

He nodded, "Yes I remember." 

Gingerly she took a bite from some chicken and was pleasantly surprised how much the simple taste appealed to her. 

After a few bites she realised how much better she felt for having some food on her stomach, even though she couldn't shake the anxiety of how long she would feel half way human. She felt more relaxed in the heat of the fire and the half light. She considered that Will had seriously missed his calling in confining himself to teaching. He would have been excellent at alternative psychiatry, outdoor therapies. He seemed to excel in making her anxiety lessen, she wondered if it was part of his gifting with empathy, that he was also able to imagine how to resolve some of the feelings he saw in others.

Keeping her gaze fixed on the fire she asked him, "What do you think he dosed me with?"

Will raised his eyebrows as he also directed his gaze to the fire, "Maybe Ativan? Effective, but not so much of a hangover effect."

She nodded, "That makes sense. Easy for a psychiatrist to obtain."

"Most benzo's are." He agreed.

Alana pursed her lips and shuffled focusing on the flames, "Will..." She all but whispered. 

His head snapped up, alarmed at her tone, "What is it?"

"I ... I don't think I can do this."

"OK."

"I need to think about having a termination." Saying it aloud she had to focus all her attention on the fire before them to stop her tears.

Wordlessly Will stood from his chair, and moved to crouch in front of her, resting his hands on her thighs. She lowered her head to avoid his gaze, feeling ashamed just to have spoken the words, even without having even made any effort to act upon them. She hitched in a deep breath, fighting hard to maintain her composure.

"I'll be here, with you." He told her.

She shook her head, "You don't want to be involved with this, this is my mess. I should have just gone away and kept everyone out of it. You should be trying to arrest him, not babysitting me."

"Jack can handle it, Alana."

Her shoulders heaved as she held back tears, "I don't know...what I'm supposed to do, I can't do this." She dropped her head into her hands as she could hold back no longer and allowed herself to cry openly.

Will moved his hands up and pulled her into him, "Ssssshhhhhh." He said into her hair, "You're going to be ok."

She pushed him away feeling suffocated, she looked at him through her tears, "You should hate me." She told him.

He shook his head, "No, Alana, you haven't done anything wrong."

"I did this!" She yelled, "I brought him into this, me! I suggested him to monitor you, got him involved in the investigation into the murders he was committing. I almost cost you your life, your freedom, your sanity. And now you should be kicking me out the door to clear up my own mess not offering to stand by me while I consider something I never imagined I would want to do."

"He did this. Not you." He reasserted quietly, allowing her fierce emotion to wash over him and flow away like a current that had overtaken them and then carried on past, "You're worried that you wouldn't be able to look past what Hannibal has done. You'd be looking for signs that this sort of behaviour is genetic."

She nodded mutely, unable to articulate it any further than what he had said.

"Then why don't we analyse it?"

"What?" She sniffed. 

"You've had patients who were killers and had children, did any of them develop similar traits? Do some research, scholarly research, take some of the unknown away. We don't know anything about Hannibal's upbringing at all." He told her.

"I can't believe that one traumatic event makes a person that way." 

"No, but significant trauma combined deprivation of appropriate stimulation. Who knows?" He hesitated before asking, "Do you know how far you are?"

She shook her head, "The blood test said over six weeks? But I didn't miss a period so I don't know." She tried to push her embarrassment at discussing something so intimate away and failed, needing to shift her position. 

"How far could you be?"

"I don't know. I guess three months maximum but isn't the sickness supposed to be better by then? So maybe not that much." 

"Time could be a factor in your decision." He told her reluctantly, "The later it is-"

"I know will." She half snapped, then added, "Sorry."

He continued to hold her hands gently with one of his as he used his thumb to wipe a tear off her cheek. He pushed down the urge to cup her cheek in a caress and let both his hands rest on hers.

"I can't think straight." She told him flatly. 

"No one is expecting you to right now."

"I expect me to."

"You think too much." He told her, wondering how many times he had uttered that phrase to her.

"No, I've thought too little, that's how I ended up here."

Will sighed deeply. He hated to see her like this, condemning herself for her decisions and for the outcome, only part of which had been under her control. In truth it would have been easy to let her drown in blame and self doubt, she wasn't wrong in her assertion that it was on her suggestion that Lecter had entered his life. He felt by now though that he knew both of them and Lecter was insidious and had been present in Alana's life for a long while. He had cultivated their relationship, his image, her perception of him, perhaps for no reason other than that he could. Will felt that Lecter had derived pleasure from his relationships with them both in different ways but his wiring was such that he would and could use those relationships to his own end whenever he chose. His switch to cold detachment could be sudden and brutal as he had observed himself, but he knew the other man operated in tones, shades, and suggestion. Never outright threatening. Always just directing, suggesting, leaving interpretation and perception to punctuate the sentence for him. A hands off form of direction. His touch left you feeling like your motivation was your own, except upon reflection when you wondered if he had planted the suggestion there. 

"It's going to take some time, but I'll help you work through it." It was the best he could offer her right now. 

She nodded, still tearful, "Thank you." Barely above a whisper. 

"He has used his influence to isolate us from one another, now we know he won't be able to do that, we're stronger than him and we are going to catch him."

She nodded, "I know." She tilted her head for a moment, obviously considering, "I think I should go to work tomorrow."

Will raised his eyebrows, "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Probably not," she smiled weakly, "but I need to get on with something, not just sleep and throw up."

"Maybe that is what you need to do for now?" He suggested, "Give yourself a day away, just one."

"I already had two." She protested.

"No yesterday was just a reaction day, today we did the blood work. Tomorrow please just rest, then the next day we'll go and speak to Jack, update him, then you can get back to your patients."

The thought of confessing to Jack Crawford how she allowed their situation to become this complex made her nausea intensify. She knew he had always had a professional respect for her, which is why he had tolerated her outbursts over Will without pulling rank as he could have done. She wondered how much damage this was going to do to her standing with him, and her professional reputation. An unplanned pregnancy to the perpetrator of some of the most horrific murders they had seen in recent times, alongside inviting him to the table with the lead investigators. She wondered whether she would have any patients to go back to. Who on earth would want a psychiatrist who couldn't hold her own life together? She was fairly sure she had shed more tears in the previous forty-eight hours than in her life to date. She certainly wasn't afraid to show her emotions, she had screamed at Jack Crawford and shed tears in conversation with Will before now. Currently though she felt as though she was drowning in her emotions, rather than simply showing them. She had never been overly concerned about the 'emotional woman' label. All people have emotions how they choose to express them or not is a personal trait not a gender issue but it didn't stop some women believing they had to become or appear to become emotionless to succeed lest they be judged weak. Alana had always cared less whether someone saw her as weak over whether they saw her as good at her job. She could detach herself when she needed to, but had never felt that complete emotional detachment from patients yielded good therapeutic results. Who wanted someone in their life in any context that had no investment in their journey?

She thanked Will for the fresh glass of iced water he placed in front of her, he seemed to be trying to preempt her needs, finding things she could tolerate by trial and error. This seemed like the best option so far, she hoped the chicken lasted as well because she was starting to feel weak and light headed most of the time which she could only attribute to not being able to eat, or not being able to keep what she ate. She was sure it was impacting on her fatigue too, it had been much more acute in the last few days. She was aware that in retrospect she had been feeling 'off' for the last few weeks. Tired, off alcohol and occasionally nauseated, nothing compared to the way those symptoms had amplified over the last few days.

"I thought it might be a good idea since the Popsicle worked." Will told her.

"Are you missing your calling?" She smiled.

"What better use for an excess of empathy that to meet the needs of a pregnant woman?"

"Even one that has no idea what she wants?"

Will considered carefully before he spoke again, she seemed calmer, he decided to take his chances, "Do you really want to have a termination?" He asked her, his tone even.

She considered his question for a moment, "I'm not sure. I feel overwhelmed, having a termination would probably be the logical thing to do."

"Don't do anything until you're sure."

"I won't, I know it's not a decision I can take back. What made you ask?" She could see he had fought with whether to ask her or not.

"Back at the lab, when we got the results. The first thing you said in response was to worry about the effect of the drugs on the pregnancy." 

Alana tilted her head as she thought about it, "You're right. That was my first thought. Then all the other stuff came into my head."

Will nodded, "But your first instinct, your first feeling was that you wanted to protect...it. You weren't scared for yourself, or worried what would be inherited, you just wanted to protect it as best you could."

She nodded slowly, "There are a hundred good reasons why I shouldn't have this baby."

"And are any of them insurmountable?"

She considered it, "I don't think so. But everything is see-sawing, it was only a few minutes ago that I said I have to have a termination."

"Yes, it was and stating something that wasn't unreasonable, especially when you're feeling overwhelmed. But your thoughts overwhelmed your coping ability, not your emotional response to being pregnant. If you act rationally against how you feel you're going to regret it."

"Cognitive dissonance." She muttered.

"I'm not trying to psychoanalyse you but sometimes your first emotional reaction is a good indication of what you want. You just have to bring your thoughts into line."

"First you're my OB now you're my psychiatrist." She smiled.

Will enjoyed seeing her smile, he hoped there was more of that in their futures. So many of their conversations had occurred under grave circumstances and about grave topics, it was one of the reasons he had enjoyed eating pizza and watching trashy TV with her the previous evening. The circumstances weren't what he would have hoped for but the experience was nonetheless.

Realising his legs were starting to cramp from crouching Will rose to stretch, he noted his slight disappointment at the loss of physical contact with her. He rarely touched by choice and was surprised by how much pleasure he found in gentle contact with her, even though he had initially only touched her to offer her comfort in a way he knew she would respond to. Will was aware that he had a tendency to stumble over his words and he didn't want to give her any doubt that he was here for her so he was precise with what he said and when he couldn't be that he touched her instead.

"Qualified for neither." He commented, letting his hand rest on her shoulder before heading back to his own seat.

She smiled, feeling a response on the tip of her tongue but knowing she shouldn't say it. I wish this baby was yours. She knew Will had unrivalled perceptive skill, she hoped he had failed to perceive that thought pass through her mind. If he saw it he gave no indication.

"Do you mind if I have a beer?" He asked her.

"You don't need to ask my permission, this is your home."

"I meant...incase the smell bothers you or something? I'm assuming you don't want one."

"Oh no," she laughed, "I don't know, haven't been around it but I'm up wind, I’ll be fine. Thanks though."

In Will's absence Alana focused on the fire, enjoying its savage heat on her face. Her hair and clothes would be smoked but she didn't care. She liked the way it consumed her senses, filling them so there was no room for extraneous detail. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the feeling. The flames crackled as they consumed the wood, sending a smokey current her way. She heard Will rejoin her, returning to his seat beside her and she let her body relax.

"You have recovered well, Alana."

The deeper cadence of the voice startled her and her eyes sprung open to see Hannibal now occupying the seat beside her.

"Where is Will?" She said, her tone controlled and displaying none of the panic she felt.

"He's inside." He motioned with an eyebrow to the house behind him.

Alana held her silence as her mind cast around for the location of any weapon she might be able to use. She came up empty. She wondered again if Will were ok.

"Why are you here?"

"Calling on a friend, and I unexpectedly came across the woman I have been sharing my bed with, my life with, discussing whether or not to abort a baby she has not told me about."

Alana pursued her lips, his tone was dangerous she knew, "I hadn't told you but you knew."

"Yes." He told her though she did not need the confirmation. "You had a blood test, it is not necessary to confirm pregnancy."

Unable to stop herself she glanced at the bruise on her arm, "It is if you need to determine what the father used to drug you."

"It was regrettable but necessary."

"Why are you here?" She repeated.

"Always trying to ascribe motivation, Alana."

She braced her hands on the arms of the chair, preparing to rise, "I'm going to find Will."

She heard Hannibal tut as she rose, her heart hammered against her chest, "Rude, Alana, turning your back on someone when they're talking to you."

"You're not talking to me, you're talking to yourself, to hear your own voice. My responses are incidental to you, conversation requires two participants and this only has one." She spat.

"On the contrary I have been very interested in your responses and they have told me a great deal," her heart gave another involuntary leap as he stood, she had forgotten how much taller than her she was, how much more powerful, "as much as I needed to know in fact."

She took a reflexive step back as he took one toward her, she knew that beneath his shirt he had powerful muscles. The memory of his hand around her throat as their bodies pressed together came to her, it was unwelcome and made her feel cold all over.

"See how your body reacts to me Alana, you think that rationalisation can undo that."

"Fear is a natural response to threat." She whispered, backing toward the door.

"I'm not threatening you."

"Really?"

"Really." He closed the distance between them, "Take care Alana." He whispered, close to her face as she turned away, holding her breath. Finally he walked away from her, off the porch, away from the fire and into the dark.

Alana bolted for the house, "Will?" She shouted, afraid of what she would find. She found him sprawled on the kitchen floor, the fridge still open, an unopened bottle of beer in his hand, the yellow light cast a sickly hue on him.

"Will, Will." She said, dropping to her knees beside him she shook him gently.

He opened his eyes wide, shocked, "Alana?" He said in confusion, his face immediately wringing in pain and his hands drifted to the back of his head, they came away blood stained. He went to pull himself up, but Alana pushed him back down.

"Not too fast, let me get you some ice."

"Are you ok?" He insisted, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Yeah he didn't touch me." She assured him as she handed him a cloth full of ice.

"We need to check the house, lock the doors and call jack." He told her.

"I'll do it." She whispered.

"Together." He told her, allowing her to help him up without allowing her to take any of his weight. Reaching behind him he unhooked his gun from his waist band and handed it to her, "Take this."

"No," she shook her head, "I don't know how to use it I'd wind up shooting you."

They worked their way around the house systematically and finding all was well secured all the doors and windows once the dogs were all inside. Alana's heart continued to pound in her chest.

"Are you ok?" She asked Will, catching him gingerly exploring the wound on the back of his head.

"A little nauseated, it'll pass. Probably just keeping sympathy with you nothing to do with the blow to the head."

She smiled weakly, "Do you want me to call Jack?" She asked. She actually didn't want either of them talking to him right now but she knew they had to.

"No, I'll speak to him, would you stay with the dogs? They're restless."

She nodded her agreement, though she was unsure how her presence would reassure them, she was fairly strung out herself. She perched on the edge of the sofa, her limbs so tense they were starting to ache, applesauce approached her and sat at her feet as the others sat alert on the rug by the space heater. She heard Will only in hushed tones, she wondered how he was explaining this to Jack Crawford. Alana is hiding out at my place and it was so predictable that Hannibal followed her right here after giving us enough time to get comfortable. Or maybe, I kept her here so she couldn't do anything else stupid to screw up this investigation.

When will came back he had the ice pack to his head again as he dry swallowed aspirin.

"That was quick."

"Yeah, he's busy." He said, brevity is all apparently. "Come on, let's go to bed."

She raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Bring the dogs, a book, blankets, the window is secured in the there, we can bar the door. We both need some rest, I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me I won't be offering to leave you in another room after this."

She stood and called the dogs, the only reply he needed, she was surprised when they all followed, she had only expected applesauce to obey her.

Entering first she checked the locks on the window like a child checking the closet for monsters, she couldn't help imagining Hannibal standing in the darkness looking back at the house, watching them. It brought a shudder up her spine.

Will pulled a chair across and jammed the door handle once all the dogs were inside, they did not seem to be bothered by this and simply took up various positions on the rug. They took turns to get changed in the attached bathroom and Alana cleaned Will's laceration out, even though it made her stomach flip unpleasantly to do so.

"Thought you weren't squeamish." Will smiled at her, observing her colour.

"Think it's more the thought that I caused this than what I'm doing."

"Alana, you didn't cause this." He assured her, "you need to let him take responsibility for his actions."

Satisfied with her work she bent around Will and dropped the cotton wool into the bin in front of them, "No stitches necessary." She told him as she pushed herself up with her hands on his shoulders.

"Thank you."

"Do you need some more aspirin?"

"Nah, I'm good. Save it for tomorrow when we have to speak to Jack." He told her.

"He wants us both?"

He nodded as they both sat against the headboard on the bed and watched as Alana tucked her feet under the comforter, "Yes. They're looking for him now."

"They were able to get a warrant? Why?" She asked, alarm on her face.

Will cleared his throat, "He went after Freddie Lounds, they had her under surveillance. She was bound to be rude enough to get Hannibal's attention eventually."

"Is she alright?" Alana whispered.

Will nodded, "She's in the hospital right now but she'll be released in the morning. Some bruising, a fractured arm. She put up a hell of a fight before the team arrived."

Alana listened in silence feeling cold all over and suppressed a shudder. How quickly the rules of her world were changing. She slid herself down to a lying position and turned onto her side to face Will, she folded one arm under her head as the other lay at her abdomen, a posture that appeared far more relaxed than she felt.

"Wouldn't say no to some Ativan right about now." She quipped.

"Feeling a little on edge?" Will countered.

"Aren't you?"

"No, he's done here. He had us both he could have done whatever he wanted, he won't be coming back here." He assured her.

"Then why bar the door?"

"Double tap." He smiled, wondering if she would understand the reference.

She smiled, "If it's good enough for Zombieland, then it's good enough for me."

Despite their situation she felt herself relaxing into her fatigue, lulled by the warm, soft bed and Will's comforting presence. They both still smelled like campfire and the bed would smell the same shortly. Somewhere in her subconscious self she liked that they had changed the way the bed smelled, that there was some testimony to the time they were spending together ingrained here in this house, his house.

Will relaxed himself down to match her posture, a little more carefully than she had owning to the throbbing in the back of his head. 

"Do you think Jack will find him?" Will asked her.

She shrugged, "He has considerable a resources, I don't know."

"They stopped his passport." He told her, "Does he have anyone who might help him?"

"Will I cant profile him." She said flatly.

"Sorry."

"I can't discount that everything I thought I knew about him was fabrication." She told him.

"Equally you shouldn't dismiss what you did know, and how you felt about him. That was real, the baby is real." He replied.

Alana nodded tearfully, wondering how many more tears she could possibly shed before she died of dehydration, "I wish it wasn't his." She whispered, able to amend her earlier thought to make it acceptable to vocalise.

Will reached across and placed his hand flat on her arm, "Maybe it can be the one good thing that came out of this?"

"Well, I did get to be totally alone in a room with you, several times." She told him.

"Not totally." He smiled gesturing to their four-legged company.

She felt the weight of her eyelids and was glad of the warmth of his hand, she wished she could pull him closer but she knew that would be selfish. She only wanted comfort from him, and she had no right to expect it, she certainly didn't want to complicate matters any further.

"Try to get some sleep." He said softly.

She nodded, resting her head into the pillow and willing her muscles to relax. She felt Will's body soften beside her and was glad when she felt her consciousness beginning to float.


	5. Apprehension

His hand around her throat made her catch her breath, it was unexpected but not unwelcome. She followed his gentle pull backwards into him as he let his hand slip down to cup her breast, her nipple pinched between his thumb and forefinger made her take in a sharp breath. He slipped out from under her so that she was lying on her back and they were face to face. But it wasn't the face she was expecting. His face was twisted into a sneer and as he drew back from her he raised a knife between them. Before she could react he plunged it deep into her abdomen, drawing a scream of terror and pain.

Alana's scream died off in her throat as her eyes flew open, Will had a gentle hold on her arms and he was talking to her in calm tones. She was breathless and sweating as she tried to regain some composure, she felt the pain as if she had been pierced and she wrapped one arm around her middle and held onto Will's arm with the other hand.

"It's ok." Will told her quietly, "You're safe."

Alana bit down on her lip to force herself back into the room fully with a few more deep breaths, the ache in her stomach persisted and she tried to relax despite it.

"Are you in pain?" Will asked her with a furrowed brow.

She shook her head slightly, "Just an ache, probably pulled a muscle throwing up." She told him.

He took her word for it and was pleased to hear her responding to him, he smoothed hair out her face and gestured for her to lay back down. She did as he loosely suggested and took advantage of his proximity and touch. As they lay she turned so her back was to him but moved in close, in response he laid his arm in line with hers across her abdomen and rested his hand on hers. She interlaced her fingers with his as she fought to return her breathing to normal.

"Sorry I woke you." She muttered as she squeezed her eyes closed attempting to banish the images in her head. 

"I wasn't asleep." He assured her, stroking the exposed skin of her arm gently. From his position slightly propped up on one elbow he could see that her breathing was beginning to return to normal, though she still held her hand tight across her stomach, "Are you in pain Alana?" He repeated.

"It's nothing, it's getting better, really. I do think I just pulled something." She assured him with more certainty than she felt. Her stomach felt tight, heavy, a dragging ache pulled at her. She didn't truly know what it was, the only thing she could liken it to was the feeling she sometimes got before her period. Since she knew that wasn't the case she didn't know what it was and had to put it down to her body's reaction to stress, and prolonged periods of horrific heaving over the last few days.

"Gastric aerobics are not for the faint hearted." He told her solemnly. 

"And not really a spectator sport." She returned.

"The only event I have had front row seats to this year too." He told her.

He heard a small laugh escape her as they fell into silence, she was already relaxing against him. Feeling her calming he stopped stroking her arm and went back to holding her hand, an indulgence he would allow them both to see them through the darkest hours of this night.

 

The first light of dawn crept under Alana's eyelids and she allowed it to seep into her brain and wake her up. She became aware of herself first, she had ended up on her back, one hand still lay flat on her abdomen. As she tested the sensation she could feel already a slight swell low down above her pelvis, not so much a bump just an area that was fuller, firmer than the rest. Her right hand remained held in Will’s, as she opened her eyes and turned her head she saw Will was already awake.

"Morning." She whispered.

"Hey." He said, "You ok?"

"I think so." She told him, she wasn't sure she could ever say anything with certainty again. She wasn't someone who had ever suffered from nightmares, it showed her how deeply wounded she felt by Hannibal, "How's your head?"

"A little fuzzy but ok." He replied, "It's still early, I can go to the lounge if you want to try to get some more sleep."

"Thanks but I don't think I'd fall asleep again. We may as well get up."

"Let me put the heaters on first, it can be chilly."

She smiled at the way he seemed to be always fussing over her, despite him being the one who had suffered the blow to the head his first thought had been to ask her if she was OK when she woke up. Perhaps he just wondered if she was about to turn into a screaming wreck again or if that was only an affliction of the darkness. She turned her attention to the window, past the mesh it was a murky morning and rain was falling against the glass. She wondered what Hannibal's view was this morning as her hand continued to test out the swell in her abdomen. She could feel what was probably the top of her uterus above her pelvic bone, somewhere within her deeply buried obstetric rotation during her medical training her brain thought that meant she was at least ten weeks pregnant. She knew she hadn't missed one period, let alone two, but she also knew that didn't mean anything in particular, some women do continue to bleed right through pregnancy, some experience a break through bleed when their period is due and some bleed when under stress or physical strain. Well, certainly the last couple of months had been stressful, perhaps her body was trying to protect her brain from discovering another stressor. The fact that she felt so sick and could feel the changes in her body told her that the pregnancy continued despite this, but she knew she would have to see a practicing medical doctor and get an ultrasound to confirm this. 

Suddenly she felt hot all over as the nausea intensified, she sat up quickly with her hand pressed to her mouth.

"Uh-oh" Will said as he came back into the room.

She took a few deep breaths, "It's OK, false alarm." She told him as it started to wane.

"Oh good, it's starting to dent my ego, every time I enter a room you throw up."

She shook her head as she quickly moved off the bed, "Sorry, I was wrong." She told him as she bolted for the bathroom, tripping over a dog as she went. He watched as she pulled her hair out of her way with one hand and braced herself with the other as she half involuntarily bent over the toilet. He winced for her as she retched and crossed the bedroom to join her, he took hold of her hair for her, sweeping in the bits she had missed in her hurry. 

"The last time someone held my hair for me...," she told him when she could catch her breath, "I was a drunken teenager."

"I bet that was more fun." He smiled.

"It was shorter, but I got a hell of a serve off my parents when my friends carried me home." She said as she wiped her face on a tissue and flushed away the evidence, "Is the dog OK? I didn't see who it was."

"Oh yeah, he didn't even yelp don't worry." He helped her from the floor and the rinsed her mouth out with water over the sink, trying to avoid glancing at her reflection, "I know it's a stupid question but are there any meds you can take for this? It seems a little above and beyond."

"Probably not."

They shuffled through to the kitchen where Alana slumped into a chair at the table. She could see Will wasn't joking when he said it was early, the view through the window told her the sun had only just risen, that put it around 5.30am. It was going to be a long day. 

She shrunk away from the steaming mug of black tea Will placed down for her, "I'm sorry Will, I really can't."

"You need to eat or drink something or you're going to wind up in the hospital."

She shook her head, "I can't, not right now. I'll just throw up again. I haven't entirely discounted the possibility without trying to add to it.”

Will raised his hands in defeat, “OK, well you know just fix yourself something if you feel like it.”

“Do you mind if I use your shower?” she asked.

“Yeah sure, just,” he paused, “I don’t want to sound like a stalker but please don't lock the door. I’m really concerned you might pass out or something.”

“OK, I won’t on either count.” She reassured him with a vague smile.

 

When they had both showered and dressed and could find nothing more to procrastinate over they decided to head into the lab to see what progress was being made. This time Alana insisted on driving following Will’s blow to the head, he mused that they really weren’t a competent pair this morning. Not that he ever considered himself to be anyway but Alana was usually competent enough for them both. Her hybrid was as smooth as he expected, her driving the same, controlled and even despite the early hour and empty roads. They had only managed to delay their departure until 7.15 am, but he was pleased to see Alana sipping from a bottle of water, even if she continued to look ghostly despite having applied make up.

Pulling into the parking lot Alana gestured to the cars already lined up, “Jack’s here already too.”

“Guess no one got a lot of sleep last night.”

“We may well be the most rested and fit in the building this morning.” she smiled.

“Now that is a really worrying thought.” he laughed. The sound died away as they stepped out of the car, all at once it seemed totally inappropriate to find anything humorous.

They walked in silence to the elevator and rode it to the lab. Jack Crawford and Freddie Lounds were standing in the corridor when they disembarked, if Freddie found it unusual for them to have arrived together she gave no indication of it. Jack’s fingers were pinching the bridge of his nose as he listened intently to whom ever was on the other end of the line.

Alana adjusted her top self-consciously under Freddie’s stare, convinced already that everyone could tell she was pregnant. Freddie’s arm was in a cast and she had deep finger shaped bruises spanning her neck that she had not bothered to try to cover up. He had tried to strangle her then, and almost succeeded from the look of her. 

Jack hung up wordlessly and acknowledged their arrival with a curt nod, "We just apprehended him." He told them without preamble.

"Where?" Will asked.

"A private airstrip, he was trying to leave the country." Jack informed them.

"Never one to use a charter flight." Freddie commented.

"Who's questioning him?" Alana asked.

"No one, right now," Jack told them, "not until we have all debriefed and can sort out some of what's gone on here. Hannibal Lecter has played with all our heads and we need to recognise it before any of us can think about being in a room with him again."

Alana and Will exchanged glances, they certainly couldn't deny it but neither of them relished the prospect of what Jack Crawford most likely expected to be a full disclosure discussion. Alana wondered if Freddie was to be included, surely there wasn't a confidentiality agreement on the planet that would hold her tongue?

They filed into the conference room, Alana taking care to enter last, giving her company, namely Jack and Freddie less time to analyse her waist line before she could hide behind the table they sat around. Stationing herself by the door she wanted to cry when Jack handed out coffee to everyone, the dark acrid liquid in front of her would normally be welcome but she immediately had to fight to maintain control of her stomach. She could feel Will's concerned eyes on her, she had had to leave the kitchen when he poured himself a cup earlier in the morning and he had used mouthwash before getting in the car so she couldn't smell it on him. Still she placed her hand around the cup to give the impression she was grateful for it. She realised Jack was talking and she hadn't heard a word, he was going through the details of how they had apprehend Hannibal, he gave her a half questioning look so she lifted her coffee to her lips to distract him, she could manage one mouthful, couldn't she?

Nope, she couldn't, "Excuse me." She muttered as she pushed herself back from the table to head for the bathroom. 

She reached the stall in time to drop to her knees for the now familiar routine, the door clanging closed behind her. When she was sure she was safe to leave the small cubicle she rose gingerly and crossed to the sinks. Alone there she regarded her reflection critically, she had a burst blood vessel on her cheek which was partially concealed by her make up, her skin was pale and lack lustre and her lips were dry, either from dehydration or the act of retching. She bent down to rinse her mouth with some cool water, hoping to erase the acidic taste. As she straightened her vision tunnelled and pitched, glinting at the edges and she grabbed the sink for support. The blackness folded in from the edges and consumed her field of vision as her muscles went slack.

 

Will shuffled in his seat under Freddie and Jack's gazes as they waited for Alana.

"She hasn't been feeling well." He explained needlessly. 

"Should I go check on her?" Freddie asked grudgingly, it was evident she didn't really want to but wanted to speed this along.

"Yes, please."'Jack interjected before Will could volunteer a response, he watched Freddie to the door and waited for it to close, “Will?" 

Will tilted his head in response, "Jack?"

“What's going on?"

"We're waiting for Alana and Freddie to return." He said flatly.

"Will, don't mess with me today." He warned in a low tone.

"Ask a specific question then, Jack." Will told him in an equally dangerous yet calm tone.

Jack looked up at Freddie's solitary return, she gestured with her plastered arm, "Gonna need a big strong FBI guy, she's out cold on the floor in the ladies room."

Jack rolled his eyes at Will while Freddie regarded him cooly, he ignored them both and focused on his concern for Alana. Brushing past Freddie he headed for the ladies room, he was briefly surprised to see it wasn't so different from the men's room really, with the exception of there being no urinals. Alana was on the floor in front of the sinks, a small pool of blood had gathered by a cut on her head, he surmised she must have hit it on something when she fainted.

He grabbed a paper towel and pressed it to her head, "Alana?" He said softly.

"Should I call a paramedic?" Freddie asked from the door, her words partially blocked by Jack who was looming over him as he crouched over Alana.

"No," Will shook his head, "she hasn't been able to keep anything down, I'm sure she just fainted, she wouldn't thank us for paramedics."

Alana's eyes blinked open, "Will?" She said quietly.

"Hey." He replied, "How you feeling?" He asked her.

She shifted her gaze and took in his hand pressed to her head and the collective gazes of Jack, Freddie and another agent who had happened to wander past, "Embarrassed." She told him, as he helped to her a sitting position.

After a minute or two he helped her back to the conference room, and eased her into a chair as he sat beside her and Jack placed a cold glass of water down in front of her. Freddie stood at the door regarding them, her face a barely concealed mask of contempt.

“Please tell me that you are not pregnant to the man who left these finger prints around my neck?” she said, loud enough for the rest of the corridor to hear.

Alana shook her head and rested her forehead on her hands while Will attempted to slide between them and take the blow from her verbal barb.

“Now is not the time, Freddie, it has no bearing-“ Jack tried to interject but Freddie cut him off, he did not even seem to blink at Freddie’s statement, clearly nothing gets past him.

“No bearing on the investigation? What the hell does count as compromised if having Hannibal Lecter’s baby doesn’t?” she shouted.

From behind Will Alana found her voice, “It’s not his baby, it’s mine.” she said weakly.

“And it’s not his baby, I’m the father.” Will piped in, suddenly inspired by her statement. If he could convince Freddie of that it would take the pressure of Alana. If Freddie Lounds knew Hannibal had fathered her child Alana would always be the butt of speculation and she would never be able to raise her child in peace and privacy.

“Will!” Alana said open mouthed, her face more flushed than he had seen for the last few days.

“It’s Ok, Alana,” he told her, “we’re all adults. I’m sure Freddie understands the science of how these things happen.”

“You expect me to believe that?” she said, though Will could see she already had a level of doubt over whether he was lying, “You were sleeping with both of them?” she said around Will to Alana.

Will side stepped again to reply, “No, not at the same time, thats how we know, the timing.” he knew he was taking a huge risk in lying to someone like Freddie, potentially she could destroy both him and Alana if she put her mind to it, he may have made it worse if she didn’t buy it, her rage at being misled might be more damaging to Alana than her indignation at Hannibal fathering a child.

“What are we talking about here? Like some sort of twisted welcome home from Baltimore State hospital for the criminally insane?” Freddie said, her face twisted in confusion and mild disgust.

Will relaxed a notch, noting that she had put in a time frame without him suggesting one, and it fit with the dates they had for Alana’s pregnancy at that moment.

Having watched the interaction it was at this moment Jack decided to step forward and interject, “I really don’t want to listen to two colleagues whom I respect have to recite chapter and verse of their private life to you Freddie, I think we can agree this is a private matter between them and leave it at that.” he looked between the three of them as he spoke, remaining authoritative despite knowing this situation was beyond his grasp.

Freddie bristled, “Fine, but really can she contribute anything here like this?” 

“Can any of us?” Jack shouted, “This is not part of the investigation, this is us trying to get our heads on straight because we have all been exposed to Hannibal Lecter’s mind games, this is a debrief like I said. We should all take a break and come back in half an hour, OK?” 

It was clear he was giving an order, not a suggestion, even Alana tried to push herself up from the table where she sat, “You stay there,” he told her, “I’ll be back to speak to you in five.” he said to her ghostly face as he gestured the other two from the room.

Alana watched him leave the room, looking after Will and feeling exposed in the glass sided office.

She had given up watching the door to try to inspect the cut on her forehead using her reflection in the table, she was dabbing at it when Jack reentered. He offered her a fresh packet of gauze that he must have pilfered from the first aid kit.

“Did it stop bleeding?” he asked her.

She twisted her head to try to see, “Almost.” she told him quietly, wondering what Jack had in store for this conversation. She took the gauze from him and resumed pressing on her forehead, ignoring the pain it sent ricocheting through her skull.

“You’re going to have a black eye.” Jack told her, “Do you want to get checked over Alana?” he asked her more gently.

“Not now thanks.” she replied.

He placed a can of soda down in front of her, “Here, this should help, I’m sorry, the coffee was a cheap trick.”

She raised her uncovered eyebrow, “You knew, before this, who told you?”

He nodded, “No one.” he assured her, “when I saw you here, you looked crappy, I talked to Bella, she thought maybe…the coffee told me for sure, Bella, she was the same.”

Alana’s brow furrowed as she fingered the can of soda, “Jack,…I didn’t… I mean you don’t…”

“It didn’t stick, a few times, we stopped trying, Bella couldn’t go through it again.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.” she whispered.

“What for?” he murmured.

“Everything.”

“I’ve never seen Will lie before.” he told her.

She looked at the table surface again, ashamed at what he had felt compelled to do to protect her.

“Only by omission.” she replied.

“He wants to protect you, I think Freddie bought it. I won’t be contradicting that belief.”

“I didn’t ask him to do that, but I did ask him for help so maybe I did.”

“He did that himself, he believes it’s the best way to help you right now. He may be right, you know Freddie would hound you if she knew, and she wouldn’t be the only one.”

Alana nodded, “I know.”

“That wouldn't serve anyones best interest. What about Hannibal?”

Alana swallowed and opened the soda to distract herself, and Jack.

“Does he know you're pregnant?”

“Yes.” she said softly.

“Is he likely to divulge that fact? Or contradict what Will has said?”

“I don’t know.” she stated flatly, “I clearly don't know him, Jack.”

He nodded, “Drink.” he told her.

She sipped gingerly, her head pounding her stomach clenched.

“Is he looking after you?” Jack asked indicating Will as he came into view returning to the room they had taken over.

“Yes, but Hannibal is in custody, I should go home and let Will get on with his life.”

“I don’t think he wants that, he wouldn’t have lied for you if he expected to be able to walk away just because you're not in danger from Hannibal anymore.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Will told them, as he reentered, closing the door behind him.

“You didn’t need to do that.” Alana told him.

“No, i know I didn’t need to but I wanted to. You can’t live your life under her scrutiny and you can’t raise a child as a public object of interest which is what it will be if she knows the truth.” 

Alana sighed turning her gaze back to the table, “I didn't want to drag you into my mess.”

Will shrugged, “You didn’t drag I walked.”

Pulling the gauze away she was disappointed to see it was bright red, fresh blood she noted, no sign it would stop yet.

“That needs looking at.” Will told her, “Maybe stitches.”

She looked to Jack, “Guess the debrief will have to wait, Jack.”

“Do you want to talk to him Alana?” Jack asked her bluntly.

She looked for one man to another as she considered, “No I don’t think I can do that right now.”

Jack considered her response for a moment, “I didn’t mean right now, do you think there is anything to be gained by you interviewing Hannibal Lecter?”

“No, he blinded me, I can’t assess him psychologically, he won't confess anything to me unless it gives him leverage and there’s none to be had from me I’m completely compromised in this investigation.” she told him.

“As are we all.” Will agreed.

“Perhaps that’s what he wanted, to burn all the experts who could testify against him or analyse him.” Jack suggested.

Freddie closed the door behind her as she approached the group, “No, he wanted to see what would happen, nothing more, nothing less.”

“A journalist with more insight than a room full of psychiatrists?” Jack asked.

“Well, they aren't exactly functioning at their highest capacity.” she replied, gesturing to Will and Alana.

“Indeed,” Jack agreed, “and in that vein we are going to excuse our company to get that laceration tended to and you will have make do with me for your entertainment.”

Alana pushed herself up at Jack’s partial dismissal and made for the door avoiding eye contact with Freddie, it was easy to do since she had to continue to apply pressure to her forehead. Her steps echoed painfully through her head as she took them.

“Dr Bloom?” Freddie’s particular tone called her attention back to the room before she left, Will stepped up behind her, though he didn’t touch her she felt his support.

“Yes?” she said, reluctantly turning her attention back.

“Congratulations,” she told her sarcastically with an incline of her head, “to you both.”

“Thank you.” she said tightly, before turning back to the corridor and putting her back to Freddie and her intense stare.

She felt Will’s hand at her back gently as they exited the office and was grateful for it and for him. He had become a calm port in a storm for her over the last couple of days, something she once aspired to be for him in the craziness of the cases Jack Crawford had invited him into. As the elevator doors closed on them she felt relief, “Thank you.” she said softly.

“Are you alright?” he asked her as he examined the wall in front of them.

“Not really,’ she admitted, “I feel like hell.”

“Must’ve been a heck of a fall, you’re going to have a black eye, there’s bruising starting up your face already.”

“Great. And it’s not even an interesting story.” she said as they exited the elevator at the parking garage, both of them instinctively taking note of their surroundings.

“Not like getting shot by your boss in the grip of a psychotic fever.” he said giving his shoulder a gentle tap.

She discarded the now empty soda can and joined Will in the car he took the driver’s position without comment.

“Did you know Jack and Bella had tried to have children?” she asked him as she struggled to belt herself in with one hand still against her head, giving up she let go to use both and swore under her breath when blood dripped onto the upholstery of the passenger seat.

“At least it's your car.” Will smiled, “Yeah I did know, she had six miscarriages before they called it a day, Jack regaled you with that cheery tale?”

“No, it wasn’t like that, he just mentioned something about Bella only being able to drink soda and hating coffee.”

Will’s attention to her drifted as he pulled them out of the underground parking, the entrance into the sunlight dazzling his tired eyes for a moment, he noticed Alana screwing hers closed in response for a moment.

“Headache?” he asked.

“Yeah, pounding, don't suppose I can have anything for that either, i remember my sister in law saying if your leg got chopped off they just might let you have a tylenol.”

He smiled, “Aaah but think about all the good drugs you get to demand at the end of the road.”

“Is that the point at which you beg them to cut your leg off instead?” she asked.

“So I hear.”

“Sounds great.”


	6. Visualisation

The ER was a hive of activity which Will forced her into despite her protestations that a band aid would suffice. Once Will had warned them that Alana had been vomiting and she looked like she might oblige again they saw her more quickly than they might have done otherwise because of the implications of vomiting after a head injury, neither of them mentioned the vomiting occurred before the injury until they were asked to explain how it happened. The doctor had regarded Will extremely cooly as he allowed Alana to explain how she ended up on the floor on the ladies room and he was puzzled by the low grade aggression he felt emanating from the man, as he left in a flourish to get equipment to suture the wound Will turned to Alana showing his confusion on his face. He was surprised to find her grinning and struggling to contain a giggle.

“What did I miss?”

“Will,” she laughed, “a high percentage of domestic violence incidents occur during pregnancy.”

Will turned back toward the curtain, “What? He thinks I hit you?”

“I think he’s certainly considering the possibility.” she smiled.

He raised his eyebrows, “I wasn’t aware I gave the impression I’m that type.” 

She shrugged, “I suppose your…dislike of eye contact, and direct approach could be misinterpreted.”

“i suppose so.”

“I hope he didn’t call the police.” she smiled.

“You’re joking right?” he said.

“Yes, sorry I am.”

Will rolled his eyes silently as the doctor came back onto their side of the curtain and he set to work. Will watched as Alana closed her eyes and the doctor go to his work. Once her skin was numbed he began to pull the edges of the wound together to stitch them, initially causing more bleeding as he punctured the skin with the needle it began to run down the side of her face and soak into an already established pool on the collar of her top. Two stitches sealed the wound and he pressed a dressing over it, Alana opened her eyes to see that he had finished.

“Given that we can’t perform a CT scan because of your pregnancy I’d like you stay in overnight for observation.”

“That’s not necessary,” she told him firmly, “it isn’t even eleven am I’m not wasting one of your beds to be babysat.”

“That’s my job anyway.” Will piped in.

“Will you consent to an ultrasound to check on the health of the baby?”

Alana’s mouth opened to answer and froze in the action, turning to Will for a moment before returning her gaze upward to the doctor who stood over her, “OK.”

Will let the silence sit for just a moment before he asked, “Are you sure you want that?”

“I think after everything it’s a good idea.” she hedged.

“Seeing the scan, I would that think that will pretty much make up your mind.”

She nodded taking a deep breath, “If I see it, I don’t think I have a decision to make anymore, but, I think I was more afraid of not being able to minimise his influence than of having this baby.”

“I’ll do anything I can to make it easier.”

“You already did, you took a huge amount of pressure off by lying to Freddie.”

“Think she bought it?”

“Yeah, I think she did. You know you’re not obliged to keep up that pre tense.” she assured him.

He shrugged, “Just closed a long running case, I have nothing else to absorb me, I think we both could do with some recovery time.”

“You’re a good guy Will.” She told him affectionately.

The curtain whipped back as a machine rolled in, attended by a sunny looking woman in salmon coloured scrubs. Alana’s stomach did an involuntary flip at the sight of the ultrasound machine, she felt Will’s concerned gaze on her.

“Hey, Miss Bloom?” the woman asked, consulting the rectangular slip she held in one hand as she used her body weight to push the machine into the cubicle.

“Yes.” she answered quietly.

“Hi there, I was in the department on another consult, I’m the OB resident on call for the ER today.”

“Hi.” Alana said, unsure what she was supposed to do or say.

“OK, you can just lay back while I set the machine up.” 

Alana did as instructed, her nervous smile fading from her face as she felt her pulse rate speeding up. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to force it to steady. 

After a minute or two of banging and key pressing the doctor turned her attention back to the room’s occupants, “OK, I just need to check a little history, are you staying to see the picture dad? Would you like a chair?”

Alana looked up for a moment, “Erm, he-“

“Will stay, yes thanks,” he interrupted, “but I’m fine without a seat.”

“OK, then, I don’t have much information so I’ll have to ask you a few questions. Is this a planned pregnancy?”

“No.” she answered quietly.

“OK, is this your first pregnancy?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know the date of your last menstrual period?”

Alana cringed at once again discussing something so personal in front of Will, “Not really, I’m not sure.”

“OK, no problem, we can date the pregnancy now. Are you registered with an OB?”

“No.”

“Have you been taking prenatal vitamins?”

“No.” she mused on how this woman had managed to make her feel incompetent at being pregnant in the space of probably less than a minute.

“We’ll get you some to take home today.” she smiled.

“She can’t keep anything down.” Will told the doctor as he shifted from foot to foot.

“Ah, the first trimester can be rough eh?”

Will raised his eyebrows at Alana in response to the noncommittal comment from their physician, he saw her eyes were raised to the ceiling as she chewed on her lower lip. 

“OK, this is all set up, if you can pull up your top and pull down your waist band for me.” she was poised ready with the ultrasound probe and a bottle of gel at hand, Alana did as instructed as their pink clad companion tucked a sheet of blue paper towel into her waist band. Will tried very hard not to gaze at Alana’s currently flat, pale stomach, and ignore the thousand or so fantasies he had had about lifting that top, or one just like it, to reveal whats underneath.

“This will be cold.” she warned and she emptied a fist sized squeeze onto her abdomen, a quick intake of breath from the patient confirmed that it was.

Will watched the screen display what looked like little more than random static for a moment, then his eyes began to adjust to the resolution and contrast of the screen and he saw it. A perfect recreation of a person in miniature, laying, relaxed, as if in a hammock. At least someone was unfazed by all of this, it dawned on Will that he was smiling without realising. He looked up to see Alana’s reaction and share it with her, but found her examining the wall, facing away from the screen. Gently he took hold of her hand to get her attention, she returned his grip and turned her face toward him, her eyes flooded in fear. He smiled softly and nodded toward the screen, Alana hesitated, holding his gaze for a moment before closing her eyes and turning her head to the screen. He squeezed her hand in encouragement and watched her open her eyes and raise her gaze to the screen, she interlocked her fingers with his as they both looked on, the way a child would to ensure you couldn’t slip away while they were sleeping

“So,” the doctor said, ignoring any of hesitancy in the room if she had noticed it, “I’m just doing some measurements, looks like you’re around ten weeks along, your placenta is high and posterior, which is good, baby is moving nicely, giving you a wave, see that?”

“Yeah.” Will whispered.

“And….a nice steady heartbeat, want to hear it?”

This time Will checked himself and waited for Alana to respond first, “Yes please.” she said quietly.

The whooshing sound filled their ears and Alana gave a small smile as she looked back to Will then shifted her gaze back to the image of the small new life on the screen.

“Strong, regular, good rate.”

“Thank you.” Will said.

“You’re welcome, want a picture? I shouldn’t really so hide it in your purse on the way out OK? Everything looks fine, try to get some rest, stay hydrated and see an OB."

"Thank you." Alana said as she took the print out in her hand carefully, by the edges so as not to smudge it while the ink was still wet.

Will leaned in close to her to get a look at the picture, "Pretty cute for something that's only actually a inch long." He said as he placed his hand on her back, she leaned into him in response.

"You think?"

"Oh yeah, look, it has your lips." He smiled, feeling her sigh against him, he felt sure this time it was more contentment than despair.

She straightened herself to turn her face to him, "Thank you Will, for looking after me,...us I suppose." She smiled.

He was about to reply when she eased toward him gently until they were face to face, almost touching, she hesitated a moment then pushed herself up so their lips met, lightly at first, then increasing in purpose. At first the muscles in his back stiffened in surprise, then he felt the warmth of her against him, familiar and yet not and he relaxed and responded, his lips seeking hers, his eyes drifting closed, as his hand came up to cup her cheek as he remembered he had done before.

Abruptly, the curtain whipped back to reveal the slightly hostile ER doctor standing there, they reflexively jumped away from each other.

“Sorry,” he said, extending a package in his hand, “Prenatal vitamins, a discharge summary, please see an OB.”

They both nodded silently and thanked him in hushed tones as they passed on the way to the exit.

Once the car door closed they were in silence, it seemed the opposite of the day up to that point which had been filled with sound and busy people.

“Will,” Alana began, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to complicate this for you, I just…I guess i was emotional and got carried away.”

He considered her, and her statement, for a moment quietly, “Which side of the regret line are you standing on Alana?”

She returned his gaze, equally contemplative, “It was selfish, I don’t regret kissing you, but I do regret the circumstances under which it happened.”

“OK.” he replied, aware they were being careful of one another, “You know I have feelings for you.”

“And I told you once I had feelings for you.”

“And is that still the case?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to push you into anything at all. I’m pregnant, it’s not yours, I’m a mess, and you’re not, we never seem to be in the same place at the same time.”

“Maybe we can find a place in the middle, together?”

“I would like that.” she smiled.

“We should go get you some clothes from your place, I did promise I wouldn’t leave you alone.” he said as he turned the ignition and the engine came to life.

 

It felt strange to be back in her own house, Alana expected it to be different somehow because everything else was, but it stood the same as it had before the rest of the world tilted. It felt empty, perhaps it was because applesauce was not here, perhaps because it had been unoccupied for a couple of days. She picked up the post carefully and let Will move past her. Her head throbbed when she bent down she wished again that she could numb it with pain killers though she never normally bothered if she had a headache. She surveyed their surroundings, wondering if Hannibal had been here looking for her, he had a key there would have been nothing to stop him. Moving through the rooms she felt Hannibal’s touch on them but it wasn’t an unreasonable assumption he had spent enough time here, not as much as she had spent in his home of course. The post was nothing urgent and she abandoned it on a sideboard as she check that she had remembered to turn off various electrical items. She moved through the downstairs until she was satisfied they were alone, “I’ll go pack a few things, help yourself to coffee but the milk may be bad.”

“Erm, thats OK, I’ll wait, tempting though it sounds.”

She started up the stairs, running a finger along the stair rail as she went. She always did and now knew each contour and bump of the wood that made it, she would have no difficulty navigating her home in the dark. It wasn't a deliberate act of memorisation just something she had always done, tried to allow her sense to equalise and not be over dependent on one to orient her. It was vital to her practice that she allow all her senses to speak to her, though it had always been a part of who she was. She knew as a child it had meant she was perceived as introspective but had long since learned to prevent her internal processing from preventing her external communication carrying on. She had learned to process without being lost in her own thoughts.

As she opened her bedroom door she saw that she had left her bed tidy as usual but one of her drawers was slightly ajar, she was unsure whether she had left it that way or if someone could have been in here. She sat on the bed for a moment, letting a sigh escape her, after a few moments fumbling in her bag she retrieved the grainy black and white photograph and regarded it as it lay in her hands. Something so small bringing so much change. Putting the photograph away she glanced up to the attached bathroom and remembered sprinting to it to throw up one morning a little over a week ago, she had forgotten, disregarded it as the stomach flu, now she knew better. It took effort to pull herself up and get on with her task, she wondered what to pack. She decided work clothes wouldn’t be comfortable or practical, so she opted for a pair of jeans and some yoga pants with equally comfortable tops, before grabbing some short pyjamas to throw into the bag. She added a small selection of toiletries, picking up, examining and disregarding a box of tampax as she did so. Certainly no need to pack those, the dragging nausea that was her companion was reminder enough of that. She grabbed the handles and pulled the bag with her, heading back to Will. Her own house did not feel like the sanctuary it once it, it felt contaminated somehow, despite the incident the previous evening Will’s home had come to feel secure to her.

Will’s expression admonished her as she descended the stairs toward him and he hopped up a few steps to meet her and took the bag from her hand.

“I can do that you know.” she told him.

“I know, but you’re supposed to be resting.” he answered, as he led her down the stairs, "can we talk for a minute before we head out?"

"Sure." 

She lead him into the kitchen where she retrieved them both a cold bottle of water and they took a seat at the breakfast bar. She opened hers and slipped it as she watched Will do the same before he organised his words enough to share them with her.

"I just wanted to make sure you know that...well, I don't have any preconceptions here about where we're going or whatever. What I mean is, just because we have shared a bed and you kissed me does not mean I will be attempting to tear your clothes off the second the door closed behind us at my place. Not that I don't want to...or...but....oh god, I just mean I don't expect just to pick up a relationship-"

"Where I left off with Hannibal?" She suggested.

"Yes...no, I don't know if that's what I mean. I just, there's a lot going on and while I've already admitted to entertaining...thoughts and feelings about you, I don't want you to think that being...intimate with you is the goal of anything I'm doing, or not doing, not that I don't want to, you know what I mean, I hope anyway." He felt like he was sweating, a quick squeeze of his palm showed him he certainly was.

"I think I do. And in that vein I want you to know I not replacing Hannibal with you, I don't want to pick up there. I want to see where we go, what we are, and I'm fully aware that this pregnancy kind of literally sits in the middle of us on that."

Will considered for a moment, "But you would never have wound up at my door if you weren't pregnant. And there are only three people who know it isn't mine."

"Are you suggesting we lie to everyone?"

"I'm suggesting we see how it goes.” 

She examined the worktop for a moment, “Are we talking ourselves out of this, Will? I know I have a tendency to over analyse in relationships but there actually are at least three people in this relationship after only one kiss.”

“I don’t want to do that, I want to be here for you and see where it goes, if it’s too much for either of us now or in the future I would like to support you as a friend, as you did for me when I was in trouble.”

She took a sip of water as she let his words sink in, “That sounds very reasonable.” she smiled.

“Stable, might you say?” he said jokingly as he leaned toward her.

“You could say that.” she smiled softly as she allowed him to close the space between them again so their lips met in a slow steady kiss. Without breaking contact Will slipped from his stool to bring himself closer to Alana and slipped his hand under her loose cardigan tracing from her side to the hollow of her back over her top. He felt her take a slow deep breath in contentment.

Breaking their kiss he opened his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, after a second or two her eyes opened and locked onto his, the blue reflected back some of the colour of his own eyes as she enjoyed his attention and focus. It was not intense or consuming attention but she got the impression he was passively allowing his senses to soak her in, much as she often allowed her own peripheral sensory information time to flow into her consciousness.

“Should we go?” he asked softly.

She nodded, “I don’t need anything else from here just now.” he removed his hand from her to gather her car keys since she had brought her car when they left early this morning and she felt the absence of his touch more acutely than she expected to, she imagined there would be a mark like a film negative where his hand had rested even though it had not laid against her skin.

She allowed him to lead the way out the house and she set the alarm and locked up behind them.

Back at Will’s place they let the dogs out to roam for an hour after Will refused to allow Alana to come with him to walk them, or allow her to be alone while he did. She kept sipping water and soda at his insistence though it did little to quell either her nausea or headache. She found herself unable to settle and pacing intermittently, she was driving herself crazy and she felt sorry for Will.

“Here.” Will presented her with some very bland looking crackers, “You need to try to eat something or we’ll be back in the hospital after I pick you up off the bathroom floor again.”

“Thanks.” she said weakly, not relishing the thought of eating but knowing she had to try.

She chewed slowly as they sat beside one another on the sofa, Will with grilled cheese. Swallowing deliberately Alana turned to him, “Do you want to talk to Hannibal?”

He considered it for a few moments, pausing to make sure she reached for a second cracker once she had forced the first down, “I’m not sure there is much to be gained by it. But do I want to? I’m not sure, I’d like to ascertain he isn’t going to contradict us just for the hell of it, but I’m not sure how to do that without ensuring he does just that purely because I have asked him not to after I helped Jack Crawford apprehend him.”

She nodded her agreement, “Perhaps he has more to worry about than claiming paternity.”

“I don’t think he worried about being apprehended. He had the resources to leave all of this behind and need not have got involved in the investigation into the murders he was committing.” He mused aloud, watching as she closed the packet and pushed it away to sink back into the sofa, “How’s your head?”

“Ummm, yeah it’s like someone played baseball with it. You?”

“It’s fine, just a scratch. Why don’t we watch a movie? Unwind?”

“Something that requires absolutely no thought.” she insisted.

After a ridiculous amount of deliberation and scrolling through netflix they opted for Zombieland which required no attention what so ever as they had both seen it before and it wasn’t at all complicated. Will placed a fresh glass of iced water down on the coffee table before stretching his legs out and resting them on the coffee table as he took a mouthful of his own water. Alana lay against him and they both adjusted their position until they were comfortable and entwined with one another. Will smoothed her hair out of the way and examined the cut on her head. The skin was swollen and bruised where the stitches pulled it together. At least they matched, though in slightly altered positions.

“I’m taking the rest of the week off work.” she told him as they watched.

“Good, I don’t have any classes scheduled, unless you did and they call me to cover?”

“No, I’m on the schedule for next month’s intake. Do you think Jack will want statements?”

“Yeah probably. Hopefully we can come in at a different time to Freddie this time.”

“Do you think Freddie will get access to Hannibal?” she asked.

Will shrugged, “Hannibal has no time for her, he considers her rude, I’m not certain he would consent even if she can persuade someone to grant her access.”

“She is rude.” Alana agreed.

When the movie finished they decided neither of them had the attention span for another and after a brief security check relocated to bed. This time there was no awkward discussion over who and where they readily slipped under the covers together, seeking contact with one another in the dark. They lay facing one another suddenly aware of their proximity to each other. Alana closed the small space between them and placed herself into his arms as she angled her head up to meet his lips. They kissed deeply and slowly, both afraid to make too big a movement incase they somehow frightened the other away. Alana trailed her fingers over Will’s chest as he lay beside her in shorts and a t-shirt, she wanted to slip her hand underneath the fabric and touch his skin. She felt him lean closer to her as he returned her touch running his fingers up her arm until he met he sleeve then he slipped his hand inside onto her shoulder and gently pulled her to him. She returned his hold and pushed herself to him so they were against one another, giving in to her impulse she allowed her hand to find his waist then the warm skin underneath his top and slid her palm against his back, feeling the muscles there working as they moved with one another. They broke from the kiss momentarily and lay nose to nose, Alana’s fingers trailing up and down his back lazily.

Will paused for a beat, searching Alana's expression as if seeking permission. She closed the space between them again, this time more insistent, levering herself so she was slightly above him, taking control. He sank back allowing her to run both hands over his chest pulling his t-shift up as she went. He responded in kind, ghosting his finger tips across her sides to meet on her back and guided her close as she reflexively brought her thigh up between his legs putting her weight through one side. With his eyes closed the sensations of her flooded over him, her lips gentle but insistent, her hands soft and searching in their touch, her bare thigh against his shorts as his hand appreciated the curve and dip of her back. As her hands pushed up again he allowed her to pull him free of his top and she finished the manoeuvre propped up on her arms above and against him, her hair swept to one side and spilling across his face. She looked into his face for a moment then smiled shyly before he stretched up to recapture her in a kiss. The shyness dissipated as she respond to him, arching her hips against him, a sigh escaped them both as his hands fell on her hips in encouragement as own hips worked with hers. He copied her gesture and slid his hands up her back, bringing her t-shirt with them as she had done, aware he was at a disadvantage in the clothing stakes. She lifted her arms and threw it onto the floor in a second flat and returned her attention to him. He was aching against her now, from her expression he guessed she felt similarly. Her breathing was ragged as they continues to kiss slowly, agonisingly slowly. She lifted her hips and snaked her hand down, intending to relieve him of his shorts, gently he held her hand for a moment. 

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

She nodded, looking him in the eye, "I'm sure, yes."

He pulled her to him as he rolled them both, careful to keep his weight off her. He gracelessly discarded his shorts and she did the same. He kissed her deeply as he let one hand run the length of her body, the other held her across her back to support his weight. The feel of their bodies pressed together without barriers was almost overwhelming, she was a perfect fit, her body contoured to his exactly as if they were conjoined pieces of a jigsaw. She tilted her hips upward to give him access as he fell between her legs. He paused, poised ready to enter her, "Alana, are you sure?" He whispered as they breathed together. 

"Yes." She told him again. 

He bent to her lips as he slowly entered her, a small sigh escaped her as she arched to feel him fully inside of her. He held still for a moment as they both adjusted to being joined in that way. "Tell me, if you want me to stop." He whispered close to her ear. 

She reflexively smoothed her hands against his buttocks pulling him deeper inside her, "Please don't stop." She whispered.


	7. Chapter 7 - crimson

It was dark when Will woke, he knew instantly something was not right though his senses would not tell him straight away what it was because they were foggy from sex and sleep. Beside him Alana was rigid in the bed, her breathing was…off, just not like it should be.

“Alana?” he whispered, reaching for her.

He heard her breath hitch in, “Something’s wrong.”

He was more awake immediately, “He’s not here.” Will reassured her.

“No, I…Will, I’m bleeding.” she told him.

He reached across her to turn the light on, as his eyes adjusted to the light he could see her panicked stare matching her frozen posture as she clutched her abdomen with one arm, the other gripping his t-shirt. Just a white sheet covered them, he could see now a dark red stain slowly spreading between them.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.” he told her.

She nodded, easing the cover down to get up out of the bed. Once she was uncovered she could see the extent, her shorts were soaked in blood, it was soaking up onto her top, and out from her across the bed. A sob escaped her, “It's too late.” She whispered, frozen in place.

Will tried to ignore his fright at how much blood there was, “Maybe not, there might be something they can do.”

She shook her head, “I can’t…go…like this…I need to change, I don’t have anything…,” she gestured dumbly at her smeared thighs, “for the blood.”

Will stopped his wrestling with his own clothes to crouch by her, “OK, I obviously don’t have anything like that here but I can help you get changed and cleaned up a little, we can use some towels, that OK?”

She nodded through her tears, “OK.”

He offered her a hand to get up from the bed, she shook her head slightly showing him that both of her own were smeared crimson and made to push herself up, he shook his own head in reply and gently took both her hands anyway. She closed her eyes so she couldn’t see her blood transferring onto him, though she could still feel it sticky between them. As she stood the muscles in her abdomen clamped, taking her breath away and pitching her forward onto Will with a groan through gritted teeth. He let go of one of her hands to support her around the waist as she leaned against him, her head falling against his chest, her other hand taking a fist full of his t-shirt.

“Ah shit.” she groaned, feeling more warmth on her thighs, trailing as far as her ankles and onto her toes.

“OK,” he whispered into her ear, “take some deep breaths.”

“It hurts.” She groaned into his chest.

“I know, just take some breaths then we’ll get you to the hospital.” he stroked the length of her back as she fought to regain some composure against the pain and anxiety.

“I'm sorry, the bed, the floor.” she groaned.

He held her close as he could without grabbing her, “Ssshhh, it's OK. Let go to the bathroom, get a little cleaned up.”

She raised her head to nod and adjusted her grip on him to allow them to cross the bedroom. Though it was only a few steps it felt like a marathon and she was forced to lean against the door frame as Will flicked on the light. He helped her lower herself to sit on the edge of the bath then ran warm water into the sink, trying to ignore the crimson trail they had left to get here. He winced as she pitched forward again with a groan, cradling her middle, her finger nails digging into the palm of her hand as she bit down on her lip. He waited until it appeared the pain had subsided and her posture relaxed a little then he set to work with a damp wash cloth trying to help her get cleaned up. As fast as he was able to clean it away it more covered them both, “Alana, you’re loosing a lot of blood, we need to go.”

She nodded tearfully, “Just please can you bring some clean clothes…for after?”

He nodded as he took hold of her, grabbing a couple of dark towels as they stood, leaving behind the white towels that were already soaked red. He half carried her, half dragged her into the car and all but dropped her into the passenger seat before fastening her seal belt and running to the driver’s seat.

Alana was pale and sweating when he glanced across at her, she had one arm wrapped around her middle, her eyes screwed closed as her other hand gripped the seat. As he pulled out from the drive he took hold of her hand, she responded by gripping him hard and looking across at him, the fear was evident on her face.

“We’ll be there soon.” he told her, trying to be reassuring.

By the time they arrived at the ER her face was streaked with tears and perspiration, her hair stuck to her pale forehead. As he helped her from the car which he had basically abandoned by the entrance they had both given up trying to clear away the red smudges and drips which accompanied them. He pretended not be alarmed at the blood soaked into the towels on the passenger seat, the small pool on the floor in the footwell or the splashes and finger smudges up the door and across the frame. As they stumbled together into the brightly lit entrance he felt her go slack against him and he took all of her weight. As the gaze of the triage nurse found them her eyes widened and she immediately walked away from the patient she was clerking in and called for a gurney as she crossed the crowded waiting room to meet them.

The gurney arrived at their side in a few seconds and he hoisted Alana up onto it’s surface as gently as he could. He got his first proper look at her in the harsh light, her skin was ghastly white, and her hands were freezing cold as he touched them trying to get a response as they started toward whatever destination the medical staff that now surrounded them had in mind. She looked like she had been a car accident, there was blood on everything, he glanced down at his own clothing realising he hadn’t exactly managed to escape himself.

“What happened?” someone was asking him.

“She just starting bleeding, she’s ten weeks pregnant.” that was probably all the information he had but it didn’t stop the questions from coming.

“Does she have any existing medical conditions?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Allergies?”

“I don’t think so.”

They had already put a line into each hand and covered her in wires from monitoring equipment. Several of the readouts on the display flashed red as they alarmed to indicate their displeasure at the readings they were getting from her body. Someone pulled an oxygen mask over her face as he found a place to hover near her head. Alana’s eyes suddenly snapped open, the panic and confusion they contained sucking him in for a moment, her hand flew to her face to dislodge the oxygen mask, stopping short when the tubing protruding from her hand caught painfully.

“It’s OK, Alana.” he whispered to her a reassuringly as he could as the nurses and doctor continued to circle her on the trolley. He guided her hand down as her face creased in pain and he gripped it tightly so she knew he was there as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“I need to do an internal examination.” a doctor was saying as a nurse threw a sheet over her lower half and pulled her legs into an appropriate position for the examination.

Will averted his gaze and focused on Alana’s face, she was breathing hard, he wasn’t sure whether that was from pain or panic. He stroked her damp hair out of her face, “Just look at me, I’m here OK?”

She nodded but could not disguise a wince and jump at the doctor’s intrusive exam. They both looked to the doctor as he finished, he removed red smeared gloves and threw them into a nearby bin before turning his attention to his patient.

“I’m sorry to tell you you have had a miscarriage Miss Bloom. The foetus is wedged in the cervix which is what is causing the excessive blood loss. You will have to go to the OR to have it removed. We’ve started a blood transfusion, it’s likely you'll need further transfusions.”

"There's nothing you can do?" She whispered.

"I'm sorry, no there's not." He said plainly.

She nodded as she lay her head back down, exhausted by the effort of a few sentences of interaction. She shifted herself toward Will and curled up on her side, one arm remaining wrapped around her middle as a sob escaped her. Will placed his hand along her face and stroked her tears away with his thumb as she brought a free hand up to hold onto him, the transfusion line wrapped around them both as dark red blood was pumped into her veins to replace all the loss he could see. Some losses he knew he could not see and would be impossible to replace, they would have to deal with it together. 

The surgical waiting room was as sterile as Will Imagined the operating rooms to be. The pale green vinyl floor was polished to within an inch of its life. Will could see the well worn paths of pacing relatives, bored in by a thousand separate sets of feet in as many different stressful emergencies. He had lost all track of time. There was no clock and he hadn't grabbed his watch in his haste to get Alana to the hospital. He had held onto her until the last second possible, and she him. Pain and fear written so deeply on her face he was unsure whether he would ever see anything else there again. He examined his hands. He had washed them as best he could but he had blood under his finger nails, splashes here and there across his clothing. He wondered again about going to get changed. He didn't really want Alana to see blood again when she woke up, but then he didn't want her to think she was alone when she woke up either. Patting down his pockets he discovered his cell phone and car keys. He did the only thing he could think of. He called Jack Crawford.

'Yeah." Jack's response was terse when he picked up the line. 

"Are you busy?"

"Of course I am Will. Where are you? What do you need?"

Will pinched the bridge of his nose as his spoke, "I'm at the hospital, Alana...lost the baby. I need a change of clothes. I don't want to leave her right now."

"I'm on my way." The line went dead. 

Will was left to stare at the floor again as he waited either for news or for someone to remember where he was. Just as he was at the point of going to wander the corridors a nurse stuck her head round the door. 

"You're Alana Bloom's partner?" It wasn't really a question, he was the only relative here and there seemed to be no other surgeries ongoing. 

"Yes," he answered dully, "is she alright?"

"She had a lot of blood loss, they're waiting in the OR to get her blood pressure stabilised." She told him. 

"She been so sick, she fainted and hit her head, did that have anything to do with this?" He asked. He wondered if he could have or should got her more attention, made her stay in the hospital.

"No, sometimes we have no idea why these things happen." 

Will regarded his shoes for a moment before deciding to verbalise what had been in his head ever since it had stopped spinning, "We...umm..., we had sex...this evening, before...this. Did it...I mean would it...?"

"Oh, no it didn't have anything to so with loosing the baby. Really, I can assure you of that."

"Thank you." He muttered. 

The nurse gestured to the well leafleted coffee table beside him, "There's lots of information and support available. You've both been through an ordeal, physically we would generally recommend waiting three months before trying to fall pregnant again, emotionally that's a decision for the two of you."

"Oh, it wasn't planned." He mumbled unnecessarily. 

"Most of the babies I deliver aren't. She'll be sleepy from the anaesthetic for a while, you should get some rest too. You're going to need each other."

Will regarded the floor again, "I'm fine, I'd rather stay and be sure she's not alone when she wakes up."

The nurse nodded, rising to exit, "I'll come get you when she's out of the OR."

Will nodded, thankful for the time alone again now he had an update. He resigned himself to more waiting. 

 

The first thing Alana was aware of was how difficult it was to open her eyes. She knew she wanted to but they felt like lead. She slowly became aware of sounds around her, a low mechanical whirring, doors opening, footfall on a hard floor. She felt light as if she were floating. She recognised the sensation as being attributable to sedation and opiates. It was a lot like being drunk, the sensations she would normally expect were dulled, soft, but it was a lot less light, a lot less pleasant. Memories began to drift back to her, specifically the colour red. Blood. Blood everywhere, hers. On her skin, her clothes, Will,. Light, unfamiliar noises and pain were the next memories to drift into her semiconscious mind. She tried to become more aware of her own body and her surroundings. Her stomach hurt, but not the breathless clamping sensation she had experienced, a dull worn out, over used muscular ache persisted. Her hands felt heavy. There was something on her face. Eventually she manger to open her eyes. A bare ceiling was what she saw first. White, clinical, empty. A fluorescent light that was meant to be modified to make it more natural but failed shone above her at half power, was it nighttime? She turned her head to the side to see Will sitting by her, waiting patiently for her to orient herself and notice him. His face was creased with fatigue and worry, she wished she could take it from him.

"Hey." She whispered, unsure what else she could say or whether she had made the noise outloud.

"Hey." He said back, looking her in the face, weighing up her responsiveness.

"I was awake before?" She guessed.

"Yeah, but not really." He confirmed.

"I don't remember."

"No, you've had a lot of drugs on board. You needed to sleep them off." He told her and she wondered what she had said or how she had behaved.

She moved her head to look at her surroundings, she was still receiving blood transfusions, fluids and drugs though she couldn't see the labels, "More blood?" She asked indicating the deep crimson line running to the hand he held.

He nodded, "It took a while for them to control the bleeding, you were in the OR for a while, but it's slowed down now. They gave you ergometrin, and they have you on a morphine drip as well."

"That's why I feel like a space cadet then." She smiled.

He hesitated, "Probably. Do you remember what happened?"

She nodded, "Yes, it's ok, I know I lost the baby. Have you been sitting here worrying you would have to tell me?"

"A little." He confessed, "mostly I worried you weren't going to wake up. I don't think I've ever seen as much blood and gone on to have a conversation with that person. You weren’t conscious for all of it, you’ve had a lot of drugs I wasn’t sure what you would remember.”

She pursed her lips for a moment, “Probably more than I want to.” she replied quietly.

She felt whoozy and sleepy again and let her eyes drift closed for a moment, "You're wearing different clothes." She whispered. 

"Yeah." He said simply. 

"Will you throw mine away please?" She said without opening her eyes, "I don't want to try to wash them."

"Of course." He reassured her, "whatever you want."

She shifted her position experimentally, sliding onto her side facing Will and opening her eyes again. She wasn't too restricted by the lines and monitoring and the intense pain had gone, just an empty ache remained. 

"I'm sorry, Alana," Will said softly leaning toward her, "I'm so sorry about the baby. I can't imagine how you're feeling, but I'm here, I'm still here if you want me to be."

She blinked heavily as tears clouded her vision, "I feel...empty. It's my fault, I said I wanted a termination, that I didn't want it..." She shook her head unable to continue.

"It's not your fault Alana. Nothing you said or did made this happen, it had nothing to do with being unsure what you wanted to do, nothing to do with eating junk food, or having a sip of coffee or having sex, I asked."

"You asked?"

Will looked embarrassed at his admission, "We had sex, fell asleep and woke up in pool of blood. I was worried that I hurt you, that it was my fault."

Alana reached out and stroked his face, "You didn't hurt me. You didn't do this."

"And neither did you." He told her resolutely. 

She shook her head, "I feel like I did." She told him, "I was so unsure, I feel like I wished the baby away, like I willed it to happen."

"Alana you were under a huge amount of physical and emotional stress, it was just more than your body could take."

She allowed her heavy eyelids to drift closed again, feeling the sedation and morphine still floating around her system and making everything blurry. 

"What time is it? You should go get some sleep." She muttered. 

He smiled slightly at her concern for him, "Its afternoon I'm fine unless you want me to go for a while."

"No," she murmured, "but go get yourself a coffee or something. You'll get a DVT if you sit there all night."

"Jack's outside. I'll go let him know you woke up. I won't be long."

She was asleep before he rose from the chair. 

 

In the corridor Jack stood leaning against the wall, he turned to face Will and let him come alongside before he pushed himself up. In his hand was a clear plastic bag that contained both Will and Alana's blood splattered clothing, will took it from him and dropped it into a near by bin.

"Coffee?" Jack suggested as they both began to stride down the corridor.

"Yeah." He agreed.

"How is she?"

"She's awake, she blaming herself, I'm blaming myself." He admitted.

Jack took hold of his shoulder to stop their forward motion and allow him to converse with less distraction.

"That's natural but neither of you are to blame.. It's not natures way, it's not your fault it's not her fault, just shit happens."

Will nodded, "She wasn't sure she wanted to keep it, she thinks that's why she lost it."

"Indecision can't cause a miscarriage Will, she knows that, she just needs to realise it." Jack said steadily.

"We slept together, Jack. And we fell asleep and woke up...covered in her blood. I'm worried I did something, something wrong."

"Will, you did not do anything wrong. You did not cause her to loose her baby." He reiterated.

"I feel like I did, I feel like I won't ever be able to touch her like that again." He confessed.

"Give yourselves time."

If Jack was shocked at Wills confessional conversation he didn't show it, they walked in silence to the canteen and sat down with what they both anticipated would be awful hospital coffee. They were not disappointed. 

Will made a face with his first sip but continued with it anyway, needing the caffeine content.

"So, you and Alana, you're together?" Jack asked him.

Will shrugged, "I think so, we were. I know this changes a lot."

Jack nodded slowly, "You didn't peruse a relationship with her just to rescue her from raising a baby alone?" He carefully omitted to mention Hannibal and all the extras that went along with his name.

"I considered that might be my motivation but no. I did want to be there for her, and support her as much as I was able but I've had feelings for her for a long time."

Jack listened carefully to his tone and language choice, detecting no uncertainty in him, "You're both going to have a lot to deal with."

"We'll be ok jack. I should get back."

"Is there anything you need?"

Will considered it for a moment, "I need to clean up the house, and the car, the clothes were the least of it really."

Jack nodded, "I'll see what the crime scene guys use and give you a hand. Call me when you leave and I'll come with you."

"You don't have anything better to do?"

"I think that scrubbing the blood of someone you love out of furnishings is not something anyone should do alone." 

"She didn't die, jack." He told his friend.

"No, but her baby did. You considered that she might?" He phrased it as a question but knew it was a statement. Having been briefly in possession of their discarded clothing his mind could fill in the blanks as to what needed to be cleaned up. 

Will nodded, the action heavy with consideration, "She wanted to get cleaned up before I took her to the hospital. There was blood everywhere, she lost consciousness. I wasn't sure I and got her here in time."

Jack spread his hands, "But you did." He said simply, "I'm going back to the office, call me when you're ready to leave. Give Alana my best, but I won't go see her. I think she values her professionalism too much to allow me to see her right now."

"I think you're right." He admitted, pushing himself up from the table, "I'll call you when I leave." He told him as he walked away.

Jack watched him go, accustomed to never getting a greeting or an appropriate close to a conversation with him.


	8. Chapter 8 - charge

After a brief and disjointed conversation with Alana and discussing the unlikely event that she would be released in the morning Will reluctantly left the hospital. Sliding into the driver seat of his car he could smell the metallic tang of the blood that had soaked into the passenger seat and towels that rested at various points in the car. He cracked the window hoping to diffuse it a little and turned on the stereo further hoping that maxing out one sense would blunt another. He tried to keep his mind blank as he drove, concentrating only on the road and trying not to anticipate what was waiting for him. It had been dark when they essentially fled the house in the middle of the night and he hadn't really seen the bed, or the bedroom, or what they had left in the bathroom. He wasn't squeamish but it was different going back to something like that when he had been in the middle of it, when it was his home, when it was someone he cared about.

The house was in darkness when he pulled up, his pack laying on the deck sat up excitedly at his arrival, they hadn't been fed all day. Ignoring the deck he walked through the house to kitchen without flicking any lights on until he got to the kitchen which he illuminated. He put food and water down for the dogs, gave them each a quick but affectionate ruffle and then passed them into the bedroom. After taking a breath he turned on the light. He regretted having white sheets, as they were now stiff and stained crimson. He knew it wouldn't wash out so retreated back to the kitchen for a trash bag.

"Will?" Jack's deep timbre called him.

"In the kitchen, Jack.” He called back, he dogs slipped last him and past jack and out onto the deck again.

Jack removed his coat, jumper and tie and rolled up his sleeves, literally, "Where shall we start?"

They started in the bedroom, working in silence, Will threw most of the bedclothes into the trash. It had even soaked into the pillow case Alana had rested her head on. As Jack wordlessly began to work on the mattress, Will scrubbed the floor beside and underneath the bed, then followed their progress to the bathroom. He sighed as he turned on the light, Jack appeared at his shoulder to survey the next room.

He blew air through his teeth, "How the hell did she even stay conscious to the car?"

Will shook his head, "I don't know, I can only think that pain elevates your blood pressure. She was in a lot of pain." His voice trailed off with the weight of the memory. Shaking it off he got on with it. Again opting to consign the towels and washcloth to the trash he moved on to the wipeable surfaces.

"I have never been so grateful that I do not have carpets." He commented.

"Harder to throw in the trash." Jack agreed.

Together they walked the route to the door, erasing any evidence of blood as they went. Will collected the towels out of the car for the trash and wiped down the hard surfaces. He was forced to opt for an upholstery cleaner on the seat though he doubted it would work, and he left the windows down to prevent the build up of unpleasant fumes.

When they were finished the men sat on the deck with the dogs and glass of scotch each.

"How did you and Bella get through this?" Will asked.

Jack considered for a moment, "Together. But you need to consider that you and Alana didn't come into this together."

Will allowed his statement to sit for a moment, "Because the baby wasn't mine?"

Jack nodded, "Yes."

"I was here with her almost from the moment she found out she was pregnant. I held her while she cried, I held her hair while she threw up, I saw the baby's heartbeat on the scan. We may not have had exactly the same starting point but we have been together through all of this, and I was ready to be with them both for the rest of it."

Jack smiled sadly, "Then you were a father, for a short time."

"I was attached."

"You are attached," he rose and stretched, taking the trash bags with him, “go get some rest, you'll both need it for what's to come.”

 

Walking back into the interior of the hospital Will felt fuzzy and hot, the entire building was claustrophobic, the walls seemed to him to have been constructed on curves so that their presence pressed in on occupants. He noticed details he had not noticed the previous day, as he alighted the elevator there were two choices from the lobby; left to obstetrics or right to gynaecology. Beyond the electronically locked doors to his left he saw a woman with an oversized abdomen lean on her partner as they paced the corridor. Alana was housed in a private room off the corridor to his right, he hoped out of sight and sound of the wing he mentally termed as being for ‘successful pregnancies’. His head was slightly fogged from the two whiskies he had consumed with Jack the previous evening, a testament to the fact that lack of sleep and food will certainly have an impact on alcohol tolerance.

He muttered his thanks to the nurse who permitted him entrance, the same nurse who had been on duty when he left the previous evening. Alana had remained drowsy and nauseated the previous evening, the nurse had kindly explained to the them both that although she had had transfusions her blood count was still low and she would be fatigued until it recovered and that even though she was no longer pregnant it took time for hormone levels to drop back to normal, a couple of weeks maybe, and she could continue to suffer from symptoms such as morning sickness through out that time. Will had relayed that she had been unable to keep anything down for the couple of days previous and the nurse had offered to have anti-emetics prescribed for Alana to take home. Alana flat out refused, stating that she had had “enough drugs” and refused any further discussion on the subject, even when a few sips of water made her gag, she blamed a poor tolerance for opiates and closed the conversation down. 

Will was surprised to find Alana perched, dressed, on the edge of the bed she had been confined to the previous day. It was made neatly underneath her, he wouldn't have been surprised if she had done it herself. She was staring into the middle distance and had not yet noticed him. He saw the cannulas she had had in both hands were now gone, leaving the backs of her hands bruised, inflamed and marked by adhesive tape as well as the traces of dried blood between her fingers and underneath her finger nails. Will would not have been surprised to learn that she had ripped the lines out herself. Her head came up to meet his eyes as he knocked gently on the door.

“Hey.” she smiled weakly at him as he gently took a seat beside her on the bed, aware that his weight made the mattress tilt toward him and her with it. Her gaze returned to her hands as they lay on her lap, he wondered what she saw there, what she was thinking. Tentatively he look hold of her hands in his, she was ice cold against him.

“You’re cold.” he muttered.

“The air-con was up high.” she told him, “I can go, they’ll discharge me whenever I’m ready.”

“Really? That quickly?” he said, alarmed. She barely looked any better than she had the previous evening, “Did you eat something?”

“A little,” she told him, “I can recover better at home…away from here, I don’t want to be here Will.”

He studiously ignored that her statement implied she was discharging herself and not leaving on medical advice, he realised there would be little to gain in forcing her to use the energy she had to argue her point with him. He imagined she had already done that with the nursing and medical staff. He stood, maintaining his hold on her hand, “OK, lets go.”

She pulled herself up, trying to disguise that she still felt unsteady on her feet. He rolled his eyes at her in mock scolding and extended his arm for her to link. She took his offer and pulled herself into him as they walked slowly out of the room.

The nurse who had granted his entrance was immediately in front of them, papers and clear plastic bag clasped in her hand, beside him Alana raised her eyes to the ceiling.

“I can’t make you stay,” the nurse said quickly, “I understand why you need to not be here.”

“I’ll make sure she rests.” Will told her, trying to head off any confrontation.

The nurse did not seem to hear him, “Your pressure is still low,” she said to Alana despite her diverted eyes, “you could black out, please don't drive. I know you don’t want any more analgesia but there’s some there anyway,” she said pressing the bag into Alana’s hand, “you’re going to experience cramping for a few days. If your blood loss increases at all please promise me you’ll come back. And make sure you finish the antibiotics.”

Alana took the bag from her, “Thank you.” she told her.

Will allowed Alana to lead them both forward, biting back his own anxiety over her health and well being and deciding instead to channel it into meeting her needs however she would let him. They walked on together through the door, he listened to the sound of Alana’s footfall as it echoed off the tiled walls of the corridor, slower and less regular than he was used to. She was off balance, allowing herself to lean into him, allowing him to take some of her weight. He did not release his grip on her to push the elevator button. The door rolled open and he led her into the elevator with him, she kept her hold on his arm as they both leaned against the metal wall of the elevator by the panel. Will gave a dismayed sigh when he saw more occupants joining them, a beaming young couple. He pushed his partner in a wheelchair with shiny silver balloons tied to it as she held nestled in her arm a tiny white bundle who was sleeping soundly through their first family elevator journey. Will tried to position himself between Alana and the scene but realised he couldn’t without trapping her in the corner of the elevator so instead he looped his arm around her waist to support her further. He felt her inhale a breath sharply and take hold of a handful of his shirt as she sagged into him more heavily, resting her head on his shoulder. Impulsively he kissed her softly on the top of the head, the only part of her he could really reach without loosening his grip on her. It seemed to take forever to reach the ground floor, Will wished the entire time that they had taken the stairs, even if he had ended up carrying her. When the doors finally opened he gestured the couple to go in front of them, the beaming mother in the chair looked up to thank him and caught sight of them both, he saw her notice Alana’s bruised hands, her pale complexion, her own smile fell away.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “we should have waited for the next elevator, we didn’t realise…”

Beside him Alana shook her head, “No, it’s fine, congratulations to you both.” she told the other woman, without a hint in insincerity in her tone.

The couple smiled and left the elevator as Will and Alana follow at a distance.

“Which car did you bring?” Alana asked him as they are making their way across the underground lot.

“I brought yours, I hope that’s OK?”

“Thank you.” she replied simply.

He opened the passenger door for her and didn’t release his grip on her until she was sitting down. He closed the door for her and walked around to the driver’s door to slip into the car beside her. She fastened her seat belt and leaned her head back onto the rest for a moment with her eyes closed, a sigh escaped her. When she opened her eyes Will was regarding her with concern, she gave hime a reassuring smile and placed her hand flat on his cheek, stroking gently with her thumb.

“Thank you.” she told him again.

“For what?”

“Taking care of me, not arguing with bringing me home.”

He nodded, “I’m not sure I’ve done a very good job.”

“Will,” she said, waiting for him to return his eyes to her, “I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

“Don’t.” he said quickly, the thought of her going through it alone made his heart race, even if he didn’t feel like he had been of any use.

“I know this has been hard on you too.” she told him.

“Don’t Alana. Don’t analyse this.” he told her bluntly.

“I don’t know what else to do.” she told him honestly.

He sighed, “You don’t need to do anything, take some time, recover, together.”

She nodded, tearfully, “How…do you recover from this?” she whispered.

He leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead, “I don’t know, we’ll do it together, OK?”

She took her hand away to wipe her tears away with a shuddering breath and cleared her throat.

Will waited a moment until she had composed herself, “Do you want me to take you to your place? I’m not leaving you alone so you’ll have to put up with me either way.”

She hesitated, “There are a couple of things I need, I mean, I need to go to the store either way, I need some clothes from my place. Is…I mean,…”

“My place is spotless.” he interjected.

Her mouth dropped open, “You must have been cleaning all night.”

“No, I had help,” she tilted her head in an unspoken question, “Jack. And give me a list I can go to store and the dogs will look after you.”

She shook her head, “No, Will, I can go myself, you can wait in the parking lot, I swear. I just don’t want to send you shopping for certain things.”

Will raised his eyebrows, “Ooh, no need, Bella sent a parcel of toiletries with Jack. With the instructions that us men were to keep our hands off because we’re too stupid to know what you need or too embarrassed to bother picking it up.”

“Oh my god.” she laughed.

“There may be some chocolate in there too.”

She shook her head, “You’re welcome to it.”

“It’s the dogs that have been eyeing the package up.” he told her, “I prefer ice cream.”

They fell silent as he pulled out of the parking lot.

 

Alana’s heart lifted to see the dogs happily greeting her as she pulled herself out of the car, they bounded toward her full of eager excitement and affection. She scratched applesauce’s ear as the dog nuzzled into her side with sad eyes. She stroked the dog’s head, looking into her face and seeing her furry friend reflecting her own pain. She hadn’t realised Will was at her side, when she looked up she could see there he felt her loss too. She had thought she wanted to protect him from it but she realised she just didn’t want to feel it herself.

“Dogs have a surprising level of empathy.” he told her gently, again taking her arm and gently leading her into the house, the pack followed behind them.

Alana couldn’t help surveying the surroundings as they entered, looking for traces of blood but she found none. The place was sparkling, but she felt like it was just a sheen hiding all that lay beneath, all the tears, pain and blood beneath a reflective surface.

“I’m tired.” she muttered, she wasn’t especially sure why she did, even though it was the truth, it seemed to have just slipped out of her without the thought registering in her head. She slumped onto the sofa.

“Do you want to lay down?” Will asked her.

She shook her head and stretched out her hands, “I would really, really like is a very hot shower.” she told him, "I promise not to lock the door." 

He closed his mouth to his objection and turned to find clean towels.

With the shower running the mirror steamed up fast, Alana hadn't even managed to remove her clothes yet. She stood frozen over the sink not looking at her steam obscured reflection. A fleeting memory filtered through her mind, her perched on the edge of the bath pitched forward in pain as Will crouched in front of her, blood everywhere. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly taking a few deep breaths and opened them to the reality of the scrubbed clean and shining bathroom. At her feet below the sink was a gift box she assumed to be from Bella. She hesitantly removed the lid on the yellow floral box and took a look inside. Her concern about Will wanting to be sent shopping for feminine products evaporated as she saw that Bella had included a few packs of various brands and types. Alongside these essentials were fresh citrus scented shampoo and shower gels, a bar of plain chocolate, a plain silver photo frame the perfect size for a scan picture, acupuncture wrist bands meant to combat nausea and a packet of seeds for a rose bush. On the top lay a note reading "Be kind to yourself, use the things you want, throw away, smash, or burn whatever you need to. You will get through this, much love, Bella."

The kind note brought tears to her eyes and Alana shoved it back into the box before retrieving the toiletries she needed, eventually finding the energy and motivation to undress and get in the shower.

When she finally stepped under the water it was scalding but she welcomed the sensation, it silenced some of the chaotic thoughts running through her head. She stood for a moment just allowing the hot water to spray onto her head and run down her body. She wished it could take some of the events of the last few days away down the plug hole with it, but she knew it couldn't. She had learned early that some events do not wash away however hard we try. Tears came unexpectedly and she turned her face into the flow of the water to wash them away until she couldn't breathe in the water's path then she lowered her head to direct the water onto her back. Her head stung as the shower rinsed across the cut and bruises on her face, she was supposed to keep the wound closure dry, she had forgotten about it. Opening her eyes she saw the water running away from her was tinged pink, this time not a memory or daydream just a reminder that her body had been unable to hold onto her baby, whose strong bounding heartbeat she had seen flicker on the screen like a beacon. She closed her eyes against the sight and turned back around to direct her gaze upwards away from it. She worked the fresh smelling citrus gel into her hands first, trying to remove the blood and adhesive stains, she ignored the protesting pain impulses from the areas that were already bruised and swollen from needle infiltration. When she was satisfied she shifted her attention to her hair and began to work the shampoo into it, feeling the accumulated debris of her time in hospital start to come away. Once she was satisfied that her hair felt physically clean she let the conditioner soak into it while the scrubbed the rest of her body. By the time she finished her skin was tingling and red. She shut off the water and stepped out of the shower to grab her towel. She wondered if Will was nervously crouched listening by the door incase she blacked out. It didn't seem like such a bad idea as her head was swimming either from the heat of the shower or the fact that it was the longest she had managed to stand upright for a couple of days. She perched back on the side of the bath and put her head down until her vision cleared and the pitching sensations slowed down. A few deep breaths helped her feel more steady and she started to get dressed. Once she had her clothes on the steam had cleared and she regarded her reflection in the mirror. The wound closure strips were half peeled off and she pulled them the rest of the way, the wound was far from healed but it didn't bleed. She traced the outline of the purple bruising with her finger, it still looked new and raw and yet to Alana it felt like that fall was weeks ago. Her already pale complexion was whiter than usual and she knew she looked either sick or tired, or both. Alana turned on the water to brush her teeth, sweeping her wet hair into a loose ponytail behind her head. She found her nausea intensifying unpleasantly and tried to ignore it, but ended up retching over the sink. When it subsided she rinsed her mouth out with water, feeling confident she wouldn't actually throw up, couldn't actually as there was absolutely nothing on her stomach. The nagging ache in her lower abdomen intensified into a cramp, probably in response to her retching, and she braced herself against the sink until it dulled again. It left her feeling like the muscles in the abdomen were tighter, like she couldn't stand up straight and she was sure as she left the bathroom she was shuffling, pitched forward like an old lady. She used the door frame as support as she crossed back into the lounge, Will concerned eyes finding her as she made her way back to the sofa. She saw his hand twitch and she knew he was itching to come and help her to the sofa, guide her, make it easier, make it better. She had wanted to present an 'OK' front to Will, hide any discomfort or turmoil but found that she didn't have the energy for it and she knew she was openly broadcasting that she was in pain, of all varieties. She doubted she could have effectively hidden anything from Will without a monumental amount of effort anyway. She eased herself onto the sofa beside him with a sigh.

"Was the shower OK?" He asked her.

She nodded, "Yeah it was great."

He assessed her frame and posture for a moment, "Do you want some pain killers?"

She shook her head, "No I'll be fine."

"I know you will, but right now you're in pain. The nurse did say it would intensify if you did too much."

"Really? I don't remember that, I wouldn't call having a shower too much though."

"Maybe your body does, wait here, I have something non-pharmaceutical that will help." He told her pushing himself up from the sofa.

She regarded him curiously, "okay..." She leaned her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes, allowing the feeling of fatigue to creep into her consciousness as she drew her legs up toward her chin to cradle her middle. With her eyes closed the sensations of Will's house remained present and comforting, the dry warmth of the space heater, the way she softly sank into his sofa, the occasional scratch of a dog's paw against the hard floors as they trotted from one place to another. She startled when Will gently placed a hand on her shoulder, she hadn't heard him come back.

He offered a vaguely flowery cushion to her, as she took it she realised it was warm, a heat pack, scented with lavender. She took it and lay it over her stomach, "Thank you."

"Lay down a while." He told her, sitting beside her.

She thought about protesting but decided against it and did as he had instructed, swinging her feet up onto his lap as she did so.

"How do you have this?" She asked, her eyes closed.

"My first dog had a problem, he wouldn't sleep anywhere without a source of warmth to curl up on. Mostly that was me, but I was working homicide at the time so I ended up with a few of these. That's a spare, you're not sharing with a puppy by the way.”

She smiled, “Good to know. What time is it?”

“It’s lunchtime. There’s some soup on the stove on low whenever you want some.”

“Hospitals screw with your perception of time.” she told him.

He nodded, finally deciding he could and would place his hands on her thigh as she lay across him, she did not seem to react at the contact and he couldn’t decide whether that was good or not. He certainly didn’t expect her to jump him, she didn’t look like she had the energy to be doing any sort of jumping for a while, but she didn’t stiffen or slap him away so he decided that it was an approved course of action. He wasn’t sure where their boundaries lay anymore. They seemed to have largely skipped a few levels. They had been intimate with each other but he had hardly seen her naked, they had made love in the dark and under the covers. They had eaten together and shared a bed, but never been on a date. They had come home to his house together after a traumatic loss, but never come home to the same house after a day at work.

“Actually I think life threatening events do that, Alana.” he told her.

“That’s a little dramatic, Will.” she told him, finally opening her eyes, not because she especially wanted to but because she really would fall asleep if she didn’t.

He tilted his head to consider, “No, they were pretty urgent about everything, and you kind of weren’t conscious for a significant portion of everything.”

“You have a point,” she admitted, “Lunch sounds like a good idea, I should try to eat something before I have anymore antibiotics.” She eased herself up, allowing the time she knew she needed to adjust to a change in posture.

"Well, look at that I knew there was a good patient in there somewhere." He smiled at her as she shot him a sour look.

 

Once at the table she had to admit it smelled good, it was simple, warm and filling, she hated to admit exactly what she needed. She sipped at it tentatively, giving up half way through.

"Sorry, it's not a reflection on your culinary skills." She told him.

"It's the most I've seen you eat in a week so I'm really not offended." He placed the antibiotics down in front of her with a glass of water and she palmed one out of the container before washing it down with a few gulps of water and a shudder.

“Dessert leaves a lot to be desired though.” she mumbled, “your pack is looking stir crazy, Will. Why don’t you take them out. I’m not up for that today but I’ll sit on the deck and get some fresh air.”

He nodded, “Yeah, OK, but I’ll take my cell, you call me if you need me.” he told her.

She raised her hands in surrender, “I promise.”

She tried to follow them out at something approximating Will’s normal walking speed and was rewarded with renewed cramping around her middle forcing her to slow down. Will was off the decking and onto the grass by the time she made it to the front door, sitting on his seat to the side she pulled her legs up under her and waited for the pain to subside. She wondered quite how long it would be until she was able to cross a room without feeling like she might pass out before she got there. The fresh air felt good on her skin and she felt herself relaxing into looking out across the terrain in front of her. She hadn't realised how much she missed being able to focus her eyes on something further than a few feet away. She didn’t know where to start in processing the events of the last few days. Her emotions ran like tides from one extreme to another, then at times eluded her altogether as if she had shorted out her ability to recognise emotions after overusing them. Her mind could not keep up, either with the way her feelings ebbed and flowed or with everything she had experienced.

She smiled slightly to herself as she noticed that Will had left a glass of water beside and her own, fully charged cell phone. She had no idea when he had managed to do those things, perhaps as she was shuffling her way to the door like an invalid. She was grateful for all his attention and care, she had no idea he would be willing to provide so much to her. She always knew really that he was capable of it, despite his great efforts to minimise social communication, she had always felt that this was to prevent him drowning in the lives of others. It wasn’t that he could read people easily it was that he could not prevent himself from doing so, couldn’t prevent their emotions from washing his away when he was in contact with them. She was privileged that Will had not just allowed her into his home, but that he had allowed himself to stay close to her through all of this, and in fact had allowed himself to take an active part. She remained grateful for his lie to Freddie, even if it had been for nought in the end. She wasn’t sure where they were supposed to go from here, personally or professionally. She supposed Will was correct when he had said to her that they would just have to work it out, but she did not relish beginning the process and currently was happy to remain in this safe bubble Will had created for her.


	9. Stand

When Will returned he was mildly alarmed to find Alana was no longer sitting on the porch, but was reassured to see she had taken the glass of water and her phone with her. He let the dogs file in ahead of him, knowing they would go to Alana. He followed them through and found her pouring herself some more water in the kitchen. Her demeanour was different, she stood straighter although he could still see the effects of fatigue on her posture she looked less weighed down. She turned toward him and gave him a small smile, it reached her eyes and looked genuine which made him smile genuinely in return.

“Hey.” he said, a little unsettled by the shift in her since he had left.

“Hey.” she repeated, and offered him a glass of water, which he accepted mainly for something to do with his hands.

She started back out the kitchen and eased herself down into the sofa, he followed suit, continuing to wonder what had happened while he was away to change her disposition. Maybe she just felt better for having eaten something, he was assuming she hadn’t thrown it up while he was out walking.

“Something’s different.” he said finally.

She nodded, “I need to go see him Will.” she said softly.

He inclined his head toward her as he turned her words over in his head. There was no question which ‘he’ Alana was talking about, and reaching that decision had obviously brought her some level of rest and clarity, but it still left him gravely concerned.

“I’ll be there with you.” he told her finally.

She felt her jaw unclench and realised she had been waiting for him to protest, shout, scream and tell her how mad an idea that was and she was relieved when he didn’t.

“They won’t let us see him together.” she told him.

“I know, then I’ll wait on the other side of whatever door they will let me.” he assured her.

She leaned in to him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, “Thank you for not trying to talk me out of it.” she whispered.

“It would be a waste of energy for both of us, I couldn’t change your mind. Why do you want to see him Alana?” he asked as they leaned back together and he rested his cheek against the top of her head.

“I need to finish it.” she said simply.

“Your relationship with Hannibal?”

“No, I need to draw a line under it all, it feels like seeing him is the best way to do that.”

“I can understand that.” he said simply, “Do you want me to speak to Jack?”

She considered it for a moment, “No, I should do that myself, but thank you.” 

She shifted slightly and lay deeper against him, he realised she considered the conversation closed.

 

 

"Alana." The way jack Crawford said her name sounded like a question. She hoped she was not so unrecognisable that he had to question who she was. She stood as straight as she could, considering she still felt like someone had driven a truck through her abdomen and her head swam with the effort of being upright. Will remained fixed at her side and she was grateful for him, his unswerving presence with her through all of this. 

"Jack." She replied.

"I didn't expect to see you here today." He told her needlessly. 

"I know, Jack, I want your permission to speak to Hannibal." She said plainly. 

She watched as Crawford's surprise and then displeasure flitted across his face, "I'm not so sure that a good idea." 

"Please." She said softly, "I need to. Not as a psychiatrist, as someone he deceived I just...I need to see that it's real even though I know it is."

Jack nodded slowly, "I can understand that, but Alana, I have to tell you I think you could do yourself more harm than good."

Alana glanced at Will briefly before she turned back to Jack, "I understand that. I need to do it."

Jack blew air out through his teeth, "Are you up for this? Physically I mean?"

"I'm fine." She responded reflexively. 

"You look like shit." He told her plainly.

"I feel like shit." She replied, "But I wouldn't expect to feel any other way right now. So long as I can stand I want to talk to him."

"Well," Jack said tossing papers down onto his desk, "that won't be necessary as I will ensure there is a chair for you. But if you so much as stumble I will be calling paramedics to haul you back to the hospital. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Will? Anything to say about this?" He challenged.

"I want to be able to see her, at all times."

"Agreed." Jack told him, “Are you aware of where he’s being held?”

Alana placed her hand on the chair in front of her for support but resisted the temptation to slump into it, Jack and Will exchanging anxious glances did not pass her notice, “I can guess, do I need the administrator’s permission to see him? I’m assuming Doctor Chilton has now been exonerated?”

“He has, however, he has taken a period of leave, on full pay while he decides if he wishes to return to the role. The interim administrator has come in from outside the facility and has no connection to Doctor Lecter.”

She nodded, “When can I speak to him?”

Jack glanced from Will to Alana and back again, “As soon as you arrive, I’ll notify them you’re coming and that Will is to be allowed to accompany you.”

Alana took this as a dismissal and she and Will returned to the car for Baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane.

 

Once the car doors were shut and they were encapsulated inside Alana turned to Will, “Are you OK doing this? Going there?”

Will nodded slowly, “As OK as you are going to see him a day after you got out of hospital.”

She matched his nod, “I don’t want you to do this just because of me.”

Will removed his hands from the ignition and steering wheel as he considered his response and give Alana his full attention, “I’m doing this because of us. You need to do this and I need to be there with you. I’m sure neither of us would choose this but here we are.”

“I don’t think he should see you, Will. He’s going to use your time in there to get in your head.”

“I know, I’ll stay out of his sight, but you stay in mine, OK?”

She nodded and gave his thigh a quick squeeze, “I understand.” she told him.

 

They drove in silence but it wasn’t uncomfortable, each of them preparing themselves for what was ahead. When they pulled up they both hesitated before releasing their seat belts, Will preempted Alana’s reach for him by leaning across to her and kissing her slowly and deeply.

“Keep that one with you.” he whispered to her.

“I will.”

They didn’t exchange anymore words or contact as they entered the building, Will gratefully accepted his ‘visitor’ badge and pinned it prominently on his chest. He stayed a step away from Alana, he knew she needed physical space to pull herself together emotionally no matter how much he wanted to make her feel that he was here. He knew that was his need not hers, processing anything other than what she was here for right now was a distraction she could not afford. She had tossed and turned beside him most of the night, he thought initially it was due to her thinking about what she had planned for today, then he realised from the way she held herself she was still in pain. He silently handed her a handful of painkillers around 3am with a glass of water and she swallowed them in resignation. After that she lay with her head on his chest and slept for a few hours. She had managed a glass of orange juice and half a slice of wholemeal toast before she had almost gagged trying to take another bite and she had resigned at that point, but she hadn’t thrown up. She looked more like herself once she had got dressed and put some make up on, though she had been unable to disguise the cut and bruise across her forehead, or the bruising on her hands where she had been cannulated. Will was reassured that her movements were less slow and careful than the previous day, but could plainly see the toll this was taking on her. Truthfully he wanted her to be home, under a blanket watching trashy TV, not wasting her energy on the man who had led them all into this position. He had wanted to argue into the night to try to change her mind, but he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t be swayed and did not want to make himself a source of opposition and stress, so instead he quietly supported her. As he followed her down the corridors he was aware of a change in her breathing, it was more controlled, she was trying to slow her heart rate down he realised. When they reached the door that marked his farthest point of reach she turned to him with an anxious smile, I’ll be right here, he mouthed and she acknowledged him with a nod before turning away and continuing alone as the door slid shut behind her. 

She could see Jack had made good on his promise, or threat, of a chair as there was already one against the wall opposite the cell she was heading to. She took the not so subtle hint that she should sit that far away and ignored it, pulling the chair closer to the cell’s border without looking at its occupant. She needed the few seconds to prepare herself before she faced him. He respectfully allowed her those, though he stood and faced her he did not acknowledge her verbally until she sat down on the chair facing him.

“Alana.” he said.

She nodded mutely, whatever she had wanted to say and whatever her reasons for coming were, they had deserted her momentarily.

She raised her eyes to him, hoping she would feel a flash of hatred for him, but she didn’t. He again looked like the man she knew, not the person who had confronted her on Will’s decking that night.

“What happened to you?” it was his voice, asking her, when really that’s what she wanted to ask him, demand of him, what happened to you? Who are you? What are you?

She realised he was looking at her bruised and cut forehead, self consciously she raised a head to it, “Nothing.” she told him tersely. I threw my guts up for days and passed out on the bathroom floor in front of colleagues in one of the most embarrassing incidents of my life, apart from discovering the man I was sleeping with is a serial murderer who I invited into the investigation into the murders he was committing.

“You have venepuncture marks on your hands, you’ve been in hospital. Did you require intravenous fluids because of the morning sickness?”

“I’m not pregnant.” she told him coldly.

She saw him register surprise and wipe his expression back to the neutral mask he had been displaying to her, “You had a termination?”

“I had a miscarriage. Will and I certainly didn’t plan the pregnancy and we discussed all the options but we had decided to keep the baby.” A pure fabrication they both knew, but she knew Hannibal had no idea whether or not she was lying about the miscarriage, she didn’t much care what he thought, she just wanted to know whether he would contradict her. She wanted to know for sure what he looked like when he looked her in the face and lied. Or when he told the truth, she needed to trap into a situation where she knew what was the truth and what was a lie.

He showed no reaction to her lie, if her lying to him surprised him he did not show it at all.

“It would have been a pleasure to discuss Will’s thoughts on becoming a father in our sessions together, of course that is not currently an option for either of us. Betrayed by your own body, Alana, and you such a loyal person, how ironic.” 

A slight sneer touched his features and she knew he was aware his words would hit their mark, calculated, directed, precise, cold. The slight change rendered his features virtually unrecognisable to her, a polar opposite to the respect and affection she had read in his expression for so long. She returned his cold regard, "There is nothing ironic about loosing a child I can assure you."

"No," he agreed, "there is not. Horrifying, traumatic yes, and yet here you are, I would guess a day out of hospital to confront me when you and Will would be more appropriately mourning the loss of your child."

She detected no change in his expression or demeanour at all, he showed no traits of being aware he was lying at all, he showed nothing he didn’t want to. She was wasting her time, she could not assess him and she would never be able to ascertain why he had drawn them all in to his life in this way. She pushed herself up and dragged the chair back to the wall, turning her back on a man who had become unrecognisable to her.

“Goodbye Hannibal.” she said simply.

“Do buy Will some better aftershave when you’re feeling better, that stuff clinging to your hair really has been too long in the bottle.” he said to her as she walked away a lot quicker than she had approached.

Will followed her wordlessly as she took long strides ahead of him, he knew she just wanted to be out of the building, it was a feeling he totally understood. He signed them both out as she faced the doors waiting for the security guard to release them. When he finally did she slipped through barely a crack and stepped onto the top of the stairs taking big gulps of air to steady herself against the railing. Will let the doors slip shut behind them before he approached her.

“Alana.” he said gently as he placed his hand on her arm.

She pushed him off abruptly and started down the stairs ahead of him. He only understood when as she reached the bottom she doubled over and threw up onto the pavement in front of her. He gave her a moment for as much privacy as their location would allow then approached her again and offered her a tissue. She took it wordlessly and wiped her mouth with it before slowly straightening up.

“Sorry.” she whispered.

“That’s OK, you missed my shoes.” he told her, with an attempt at levity. He pulled her into him with an arm wrapped around her waist, “Can we go now?”

“Only if there’s alcohol involved.”

“If you can keep it in your stomach long enough to get drunk you are welcome to get as drunk as you like.”


	10. Cheers

Will was a little alarmed, and ashamed, at the efficiency with which Alana could not only match him drink for drink but actually outpace him. He had expected her to be a sad drunk given the events of the last few days, but was pleasantly surprised when she approached it with a fun glint in her eye, rather than the evident desire to obliterate recent memories from her mind. By-passing beer she had opted for shots, a little to Will’s alarm, and he kept pace with her for an hour or so then retreated to the safety of beer so that he could be the relatively sober party in this party. His own inhibitions were sufficiently softened by the alcohol he had consumed, and he found her light hearted attitude was contagious and rather than consider the bottom of his glass as he often did his expression rested in a small smile as he watched Alana pour a shot of whiskey down her neck.

“Feel better?” he asked her.

She nodded, “Yes. Though I have to admit, I actually don’t like whiskey.”

“Oh!” he laughed, “Well, you’ll probably like it even less in the morning, better not to ruin a drink you like.”

“Fair enough.”

He pulled her up by the hand and led her to the sofa, tired of sitting on the hard kitchen chairs and wanting to slouch now his muscles had been slackened by alcohol.

Alana sat heavily next to him, and leaned her head back into the softness of the cushions with her eyes closed.

“The room spinning?” he asked.

“Nope, not yet.” she smiled.

“Better have another drink then.” he told her as he poured her one and she laughed lightly. It was nice to hear, even if it was most likely entirely alcohol induced.

“Can I ask you something Alana?”

Her face creased in mock consternation, “If you have to.”

“Why do you wear a starfish necklace?”

“Why do you ask that?”

He rolled his eyes, apparently even a good dose of scotch could not dull her analytical nature, “Most people wear crosses, family heirlooms, a starfish is different. I don’t believe that you chose it just because it’s pretty. Even though it is.”

She seemed to weigh whether or not she liked his reasoning before she decided to give her answer, “Haven’t you ever heard the starfishes on the beach story?” she stumbled over the words, her “s’s” elongating as she tried not to sound intoxicated.

“It reminds you that you can’t save everyone.”

“But that I can make a difference to a few.” She finished for him.

Will nodded with raised eyebrow then looked around in confusion as a cellphone rang. Considering the amount of calls he normally took both their phones had been profoundly silent over the last few days and he idly wondered if Jack had somehow blocked them. The display told him it was Jack Crawford calling for his attention and he angled the display at Alana to show her who it was before he answered the call.

“Hi Jack.”

“Will? I just called to see if Alana’s OK?”

“She’s fine, Jack, she's just here.”

“Hey Jack!” she shouted to the phone.

“Is she drunk, Will?” he asked tersely.

“Using my highly polished profiling skills I can say yes.”

“And you’ve been drinking too, I guess?” his tone was irritated.

“A little, I can’t match her.” He smiled as Alana clinked her glass to his with a smile as she noted the ongoing conversation then downed another shot with a wink.

“If I have to bail you two out of the drunk tank I’m going to kill you Will.” Jack growled down the phone.

“We promise to stay in doors.” he assured him with a boy scout gesture Jack could not see.

“You better.” Jack barked as he hung up.

Alana giggled, having been able to plainly hear both halves of the conversation. She leaned forward and kissed him impulsively. It was much less restrained and less coordinated than their previous efforts but Will enjoyed it nonetheless. He responded by pulling her in toward him, her skin was warm under her clothes, the systemic effects of the alcohol she had consumed. Misjudging the width of the sofa she lost her balance and fell full force toward him, narrowly missing kneeing him in the crotch. He caught her before she could fall off the side of the sofa entirely and pulled her tight into his chest as she collapsed in a fit of giggles.

“Oops,” she sniggered when she had half regain her composure, “I didn’t do you any damage did I?”

“No, you missed.” he smiled, amused at her girlish state, his smile was wiped away as she brought her lips to him again and slipped her hands under his t-shirt, stroking her palms down his chest.

“Good.” she virtually purred before leaning back into him, slightly less insistent but he felt the heat in her touch still.

“Alana.” he muttered against her lips.

“Yes.” she whispered their noses gently touching.

“You know this can’t go anywhere right now.” he whispered, regret in every word.

Alana sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she spoke, “I know, i just…I don’t want to think I just want to feel. Feel something good, feel you, and me…I know we can’t……but we don’t have to, we can just be stupid drunk people fooling around.”

He nodded, “Just, you know I’d really like to undress you and screw you senseless and stop you thinking that way, but that is medically mandated as off the table for now.”

“Or off the sofa.” she countered.

“Or bed.”

“Or floor.”

“There’s a whole forrest out there..” he told her earnestly, earning himself another giggle, “you should drink more often.”

She shook her head as she sat back onto his thighs, “Self-medication is not the answer, but it’s pretty good for one night.” she said as she made a ‘cheers’ gesture with a shot glass before she knocked it back. 

“Why do I feel like a drinking game would be appropriate?” he smiled.

She opened her mouth wide, clearly struck with the excellence of his idea, “Truth or dare is the best game for drunk profilers to play.”

“Oh god Alana…seriously?”

“What are you scared?” she goaded.

“Terrified actually.”

“Well, you already had one question so I get to go first, truth or dare?”

He rolled his eyes, “Well since i have no neighbours to knock and run from I guess I’ll have to say truth.”

Alana raised her eyebrows as she mulled over her question, “What did you think the first time you saw me?”

Will laughed, ‘I thought ‘what a shame she’s only guest lecturing I would like to kiss her’.”

She smiled with a little satisfaction, “Nice, OK your turn.”

He considered carefully, “Are you close to your family?”

Her face creased in puzzlement, “Geographically? Yeah, they're just a short drive away. Emotionally, i guess so. We don’t live in each other’s pockets but we’re there for one another.”

“Did they know you were having an affair with Hannibal?” he overstepped his one question but she didn’t seem to notice.

“No.” she said simply.

“Why?”

She shrugged, “They knew he was my mentor at Johns Hopkins, they wouldn’t have approved.”

“You’re both adults, there’s no rule against it, even when you were his intern.”

“No there isn’t, not when you’re interning.”

“You had an affair with someone they disapproved of previously?”

She tilted her head, realising she had forgotten they were playing a game and it wasn’t his turn anymore. She considered whether to answer him or not, “Yes,” she answered eventually, “I had an affair with one of my high school teachers the summer after I finished high school.”

“Oh.” Will half smiled.

“He was a friend of my fathers.” she added.

“Oh!” Will said again.

“Yes, oh. Anyway, you exceeded your questions, so you should get a forfeit. I will finished your drink for you.” she told him as she picked up the drink he had abandoned perhaps half an hour ago, “My turn to ask a question. Truth or dare?”

“Oh truth, I forgot to ask you that part.”

“Yes you did.” she said resting a finger on his nose in an admonishing gesture, “ So, truth… could you really have stayed in a relationship with me if it meant raising his child?”

Will reached for her hands as she dropped her gaze to examine them, with them both wrapped in one hand he placed the other against her cheek until she met his eyes, “Yes.” he told her steadily but forcefully.

“Why?” she whispered, as tears brimmed her eyes.

“Because I wouldn’t have seen him when I looked at the baby, I would have seen you.”

She wiped away a few tears, "You're a good man Will." She told, more seriously than he would have thought possible given her inebriated state.

"That's the shots talking." He smiled, wiping her tears away with his thumb.

"No more shots." She mumbled laying flat against his chest.

"No more shots." He agreed as her stroked her hair absently, enjoying the way she lay bonelessly on him, at ease, or unconscious he couldn't quite decide, "You still with me."

"Mmmm-hmmm." She muttered vaguely.

"Room spinning?" He asked again.

"Aaaah-ha." She affirmed.

"OK, come on. Time to stagger your drunk self to bed."

She complied and shuffled to bed under his guidance.


	11. whiplash

On waking Alana quickly remembered why she had consumed alcohol only in moderation for the past few years, namely the kick back sucked. Her stomach felt sour, not that pervading nausea which had dogged her recently, but the feeling that something toxic sat inside her, and her head was pounding, any slight movement intensified the sensation. Her intellectual side reminded her these were symptoms of poisoning, as thats essentially what alcohol is, and she had willingly consumed it. A lot of it. She threw her arm over her eyes to block out the light and in the hope the pressure over her head might drown out some of the pounding taking place on the inside.

“The bin is beside the bed if you need to throw up.” Will’s voice told her quietly beside her. She could feel how much WIll wanted to touch her but knew he was holding himself back.

“I’m OK.” she told him.

“Really?”

“No, I feel like shit. But a different kind of shit to the last couple of weeks so it makes a nice change.”

She heard him snort lightly beside her, "You're a cheerful drunk, not so cheerful the morning after."

"Can you mock me more quietly please?" She groaned.

"Sure but I might need to bounce the bed to do that." He told her.

"Will?"

"Yes Alana?"

"Do that and it will be you in the emergency room this time."

"OK, can I get you something?”

“A time machine to make better choices?”

“Oh, wouldn’t we all like one of those? I’m all out, but I do have water.”

She groaned, “I don’t want to move.”

Will tried to restrain a smile, he had seen her carry on and pick herself up a lot over the last week and it struck him as amusing that she was felled by a hangover, and also allowing herself to indulge in some dramatic behaviour.

“Did I embarrass myself?” she asked, peeking one eye experimentally out from underneath her arm, “Or you?”

He shook his head, “No, you were a perfect lady.” he assured her with a grin.

“Why do I not feel convinced by that statement?” she grumbled.

“I will let Jack fill you in on that I think.” he told her, pushing himself up from the bed, satisfied that the only damage was the usual hangover remorse and she was otherwise alright.

“What?” she snapped, sitting up sharply, clutching her head in regret, “ooowwww.”

“I’m just kidding, anyway, I’m going to take the dogs out, go have a shower it will make you feel more human.”

She peered at him with one eye open, “Yeah, maybe.” she grumbled, irritated by his intensely cheerful demeanour, which was intensifying her paranoia over what she may have said or done while under the influence of alcohol. As she sat on the edge of the bed nursing her aching head she tried to replay the evening and knew she couldn’t recall it all with clarity. That told her she had let herself have entirely too much to drink, it also told her she trusted Will more than she realised. She could not recall the last time she was drunk enough to feel this way the morning after, though she assumed her tolerance was lowered by her recent pregnancy and miscarriage. She didn’t make it a habit to be so intoxicated that she couldn’t clearly recall her actions, it wasn't a wise course of action as a woman or a psychiatrist really, However, the occasional kick back is good for your mental health, or so she told herself, being too in control all of the time severely damaged your ability to take pleasure from the small things. 

As she heard Will swing his front door closed she assumed she must not look as ghastly as she had previously because he had willingly left her alone without warning her against standing up or ensuring she had a fully charged cell phone within reach. No, her general malaise this morning was mostly alcohol influence she realised. She didn’t feel as weak or sickly as she had, despite the acidic feeling in her stomach, and the cramping had stopped to be replaced with a tired ache you might get from doing too many sit ups. She wasn’t sure how she felt about feeling better, more like herself. Did it take so short a time for her body to forget that another life had ever been growing inside her? Should it take her mind a short time too? After all, she had known about the pregnancy for so little time, and agonised over her course of action so much did she really have the right to mourn it’s loss? If she had gone ahead with the termination she had considered wouldn’t she be pleased the physical symptoms of pregnancy that she had experienced so acutely had faded? Maybe she still should be. Did she need to throw up or pass out to remind her of what she had lost?

Examining her hands she was glad to see the swelling had gone, though the dark bruises remained. She could see there was more than one puncture mark on each hand and she vaguely wondered how many times they had had to try to get a line into her. She had only been a patient in hospital once before. Her first week as a qualified psychiatrist she had worked 3 14 hour days in a row and finished feeling like hell but attributing it to that alone. Only when she found herself unable to swallow or speak the following day did she realise there was something else in play but had continued anyway. A few days later she had collapsed with a fever of 105 and dehydration while at work and been admitted to the ER of the hospital she was working at. She was utterly embarrassed to discover she had peritonsillar abscesses and required surgical drainage followed by IV treatment for days. They didn’t have as much trouble getting a line into her that time though she knew she had been very dehydrated and hypotensive, so the marks on her hands indicated to her how serious her condition had been. She glanced around the room, finding it difficult to reconcile her surroundings with the events of that night. Will’s home remained neutral and calm, not the piercing red and hot pain of the night he had rushed her to the ER. It was as if those events existed in a bubble detached from where they were now. She hoped they would stay there, but she knew really that they would not, eventually they would collide and the bubble would burst. She wondered which bubble that would be. The bubble that held those events away from them, or the bubble they were currently living in.

She gingerly made her way to the bathroom to revive herself in the shower, trying not to think about all the things they should probably do today. Report to Jack, check on patients she had missed, reschedule appointments, look at new referrals, authorise or decline research projects within her department, report on the months activities, evaluate students and interns. It could wait, it would have to wait.

The hot water initially hit her face like a sledge hammer, intensifying her headache, but eventually levelled off to being distracting from it and she stood under the hot stream leaning her weight against the tiled wall with her eyes closed, enjoying the feeling that the force of the water might push her over entirely. She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing under the water when she heard a tentative knock at the door.

“It’s OK I’m still conscious.” she called through the steam to allay Will’s paranoia.

“I brought you a drink.” he called back, pushing the door open a crack.

She wondered if he had ever actually seen her naked. They had got into bed that night in clothes and had sex in the dark, she knew they had undressed her to go to the OR at some point but she wasn’t sure how much Will had seen, though she knew he hadn’t left her until she was unconscious under the influence of anaesthesia. 

“Thanks, Will.” she called as invitation into his own bathroom.

He took her lead as she intended and presented a glass of obviously cold orange juice which he placed on the side of the sink, “You’re welcome.”

Decided she had stood still long enough she craned her head around the steamed shower screen to see him as she reached for her shampoo, “Good walk?”

He shrugged, “They didn’t seem to want to be out long.” he told her.

She rinsed the shampoo off her hair without comment as she felt Will shifting around unsure whether to go or stay, she shut off the water to end his indecision. With an extended hand she asked him, “Would you pass the towel please?”

“Sure.” He told her with relief in his tone. 

She took it and wrapped it around herself before she took hold of the hand he offered to step out of the bath and onto the bathroom floor. She smiled her thanks as she came to rest next to him, taking hold of the drink he had brought her. It was sweet and acidic at the same time, probably exactly what she needed, along with a couple of aspirin.

“Do you want breakfast? Can you eat breakfast?” he asked her.

“I think so, thanks, I’ll come make some when I’m dressed.” she told him, not wanting Will to fuss over her, especially since most of what she felt this morning was self-inflicted,

“I’ll go see what there is anyway.” he said with a quick smile.

She put her underwear on straight away then towelled off her hair as she regarded her reflection. Better than yesterday, she told herself. She was recovering, they were recovering. The next step was emerging from their self-constructed bubble and reentering the world. Whatever that meant to both of them. Alana knew she couldn’t leave it much longer to return to work or she would never want to. It was easier to stay here, there was something special about being here, just the two of them, not least that they faced no public opinion on their relationship with each other or with Hannibal Lecter. They both knew they would have to and she doubted Will relished the idea anymore than she did.

Once she was dressed she let her wet hair hang down around her face and joined Will in the kitchen. She was greeted by a scampering of urgent feet and claws against the hard floors as the dogs raced to greet her with enthusiasm. She petted each of them with a smile as Will looked on with an amused expression.

“I think they prefer you to me.” he told her.

“No, I’m just novel, they’ll get bored of me eventually.” she reassured him, “Do you have aspirin?” she asked him with a grimace as the bright sunlight reflected off the kitchen surfaces and glinted directly into her brain.

He reached up to a nearby cupboard and tossed an orange container, “What about the pain meds you got from the hospital?”

She palmed a couple of aspirin and washed them down with the remains of the orange juice, “A bit extreme for a hangover, I don’t want to be knocked out. Thanks.” She tossed them back to him and rounded the table between them, “Thank you for looking after me, again.” she told him with a gentle hand on his back.

He turned to face her, “No guardianship required this time, just a bit of steering.” he leaned back against the counter as she returned his gaze.

“Did you say you would like to screw me senseless last night?” she asked.

“Yes, but there was context.” he told her.

“I’m sure.” she giggled.

“To stop you over thinking.” he explained.

“Not a sentence I ever expected to hear you say, the screwing thing, you’ve told me to stop thinking before.” she clarified.

“I never thought I would see you drunk really so it was an evening of discovery for us both then.” he told her with a smile.

“Why did you think you would never see me drunk?” she asked as she slipped toast into the toaster for them both.

“You just don’t seem like the type.” he replied.

“Oh touché.” she laughed.

“You were always so careful, controlled around me, I couldn’t imagine a situation where that would ever happen. And I have a good imagination.”

“Maybe that just shows us how much our situation has changed.” she suggested.

“And how much our relationship has changed, for the better in my opinion.” he assured her.

"I agree." She told him with a smile as she reached for the toast as it popped up and placed on the plates Will had put down in front of them, "You're afraid that it can't last?" She phrased it as a question, allowing her intonation to present it that way but she was merely reflecting his inference back to him. If he wanted to discuss it he could pick it up, if he didn't the he wouldn't.

"You must have considered that the situation we're living in and...establishing this...relationship in is not exactly real life for either of us." He replied as he refilled her glass with more orange juice and they both crossed back to the table.

"I have," she confirmed, "considered it."

He took a bite of toast and watched her do the same, he was itching with the impulse to switch the subject for her comfort and his, but he knew the conversation was not quite completed, "And did you reach any conclusion?"

She considered his question as she chewed slowly, "I know that we have to return to the rest of our lives, work, friends, family, but I would like to do that with you."

"Are you sure?"

"You've asked me that question a lot Will, is it so difficult for you to believe I want to be with you?"

"You've been through a lot, I don't want you to feel like I'm adding to confusion or pushing too hard when there are so many things going on."

"I don't feel that." She assured him, "Do you? I mean, are you concerned that I'm clinging to you because of what has happened with Hannibal and the baby?" 

He was surprised she could ask him so openly and calmly, it was evident she was rapidly being able to rebuild herself, or maybe it was just the effect of being able to eat, nausea and low blood sugar was bound to impact on coping ability, "No, I think you're very capable, you don't need me but I'm glad I'm here. I'm glad we're here, together."

"I feel the same." She told him.

They let silence sit for a while, it was not uncomfortable, the opposite in fact. Once they had both finished eating Alana broke the silence as she sipped her drink, "There's a couple of things I'd like to do today."

"I hope work is not one of them?"

"Not today," she replied with a shake of her head, "maybe tomorrow."

"It's Saturday tomorrow." He informed her.

"Oh, I lost track, maybe a slow introduction, catch up on messages and paperwork then, no patients." She mused.

"What about today? You seem...I don't know if it's the right thing to say, but you seem...better today."

She nodded, "I feel more like myself. I still feel a little tired and sore, but, I don't feel like I'm going to throw up at any second so that's an improvement, I guess."

"So, you have some things in mind?"

She nodded, then shrugged, "You don't have to do anything, but it's just a couple of things that I feel like it would help to do."

Will rounded the table to be nearer her, planting a gentle kiss on her head, "Anything you think will help I will be happy to do as much or as little of as you want."

"In the box Bella sent me there is a photo frame, I would like to put the scan picture in so I don't loose it. I don't necessarily want to put it on display, just I don't know...kept safe."

"That makes sense." 

"And there are some seeds for a rose bush, I'd like to plant them." She explained, her fingers spread across the table in front of her.

"Here or at your place?" He asked.

"Here, if that's ok? It feels like the right place, it suppose because..."

"It happened here? Of course, yeah, let's do that." 

Alana hesitated, "You don't think they're pointless things to do?"

He looked at her with genuine confusion, "Why would I?"

"Commemorating an unplanned baby that I knew about for just a few days?"

He shook his head slowly, "I'm sure you wouldn't say that to a patient sitting opposite you. Whatever you feel or think you want to do, that's what you need to do Alana. I’m here to support you, that's all.”

“I appreciate that Will.” she told him honestly, “I don’t know how I would have handled any of this without the support you’ve given me.”

Will shifted behind her and gently rubbed her upper arms with his palms, as if to warm her up, “You would have, you know that, it’s just always preferable not to go it alone if at all possible.”

Alana nodded her agreement, not knowing if she truly believed him. Her poles had shifted, the two men who she cultivated personal relationships with had switched places and perspectives, and not just once. Of course she knew they really had not it was her perception of them, or her ability to perceive them, that had switched and not their character traits. She was floundering somewhere between what she knew and what she thought she had known.

“What are you thinking?” Will asked her, barely above a whisper, bringing her attention back outside herself.

She tried to give him a small reassuring smile as a gentle sigh escaped her, “Just struggling to process a little.” she admitted.

“Emotional whiplash?” he suggested.

“I like that term, I may have to steal it.” she told him, “Yes, that’s a good description.”

Sitting, Will pulled his chair closer to hers so that he could rest a reassuring hand on her arm, “You know the medical treatment for whiplash? Immobilisation and pain killers.”

“Well, I’ve had some time standing still.” she supplied.

“And a dose of self-analgesia with scotch.”

She grimaced, “Which I certainly won’t be repeating. So maybe it’s time to do some gentle exercise?”

“Could be, could also be we’ve stretched this analogy too far though.”

"Could be." She echoed with a smile.


	12. Digging

The photograph frame Bella had sent was simple and elegant, exactly what Alana would have chosen herself and exactly what she would have expected Bella would choose. A simple silver frame, in exactly the right dimensions. Alana briefly wondered if Bella had taken a photograph of her own out of this to give it to her, or whether she had simply known where to find it following her own experiences. Being installed behind the glass seemed to increase the contrast in the grainy photograph and make the baby's shape stand out more visibly than it had before. The date and time imprinted on the image lay perfectly along the bottom as if it were a note meant to be displayed there. Alana let it sit in her hand for a few moments before she put it away, having decided she didn't want to display it she placed it back in the gift box which now sat on Will's bed and removed the seeds before replacing the lid and rejoining Will In his lounge. He gave her a sad smile as she entered, allowing her to take her time in crossing to him. The dogs watched them lazily from the rug, half closed eyes noticing their owners movements, the occasional twitch of the tail signalling their approval of their proximity in a half asleep state. 

Between Will’s feet sat a large terracotta plant pot, she had no idea where he had got it from since he didn’t particularly seem the green fingered type despite his less than urban neighbourhood, but she knew immediately it would be perfect. She ran her fingers around the edges of the seed packet absentmindedly before gesturing to the pot he offered to her with a silent shift of his eyebrows.

“Where did you get that?” she asked him.

“It was in the barn, do you think it will be OK?”

“I think it will be perfect Will, thank you. You keep pulling out all these amazing things.”

“I better stop before I have your expectations too high.” he smiled as he lifted the pot to his waist and followed her out onto the deck.

Stepping through the front door onto the decking Alana was surprised to find it was raining, she hadn’t noticed while they were inside the house. The air was fresh and cool, exactly what she needed. The sound of the rain falling onto the leaves of the trees around them was steady and soft and easy to enjoy underneath the dry shelter of the canopy over the front of the house. It smelled like it hadn’t rained for a while, she detected the familiar nitrous smell of rain falling onto dry ground. She allowed herself to enjoy the sensations for a few moments before she lowered herself onto the wooden bench beside Will. They piled compost into the pot together, their hands quickly becoming coloured from the earth they handled, lines and contours emphasised and darkness engrained around and underneath their fingernails. Alana sprinkled the seeds in the fashion indicated on the packet and they layered more earth on top to bed them in. It did not escape her that she was physically performing a mini-burial, something which she was unable to do due to the nature and timing of the loss of her baby. Immediately after she woke up, after Will left her to rest, as she dozed under the influence of sedation her mind had been full of thoughts about where her baby was. They doctor had said it needed to be removed, she had wondered how they did that, and what they did after that, her analytical nature evident even under the influence of narcotics, however she discovered once she was more lucid she had no stomach for those questions. Or more specifically those answers. Some people might find comfort in that knowledge, she had realised she was not one of them. She examined their handy work and realised they had basically created a pot of dirt to all intents and purposes. It looked to be empty, not entirely what she had imagined. Alana scolded herself, of course it looks empty, seeds cannot be seen.

“Wait here.” Will told her, with a gentle hand on her shoulder as he passed her heading back into the house.

He reemerged a few moments later and extended his hand to Alana who reached out in return.   
He dropped several brightly coloured objects into her outstretched palm and she regarded them with a surprised smile.

"Where did you get these Will?" she asked him.

He cleared his throat, feeling a little self conscious, "I made them, the other night, when you were in the hospital. I couldn't sleep."

She looked up at him and was at a loss for words, "They're beautiful, how did you...?"

He sat back beside her, "They're made out of the materials I use to make flies for fishing."

"You have some skill there." she told him as she turned over the small coloured flowers in her hand, afraid she would break them if she wasn't careful.

"I was just thinking about you, and the baby and... I don't know,... cleaning just wasn't enough. We didn't know if the baby was a boy or a girl so they're yellow. Maybe i just needed something to do   
with my hands, good job I don't smoke."

"Displacement activity?"

"I guess so." he agreed.

"From?"

He shrugged, "I wanted to stay with you, they wouldn't allow it."

She nodded, "Well, thank you, Will. They're beautiful."

"You're welcome." he replied awkwardly. He had never done anything like them before and didn’t consider himself to be a particularly gregarious or artistic person. He wasn't sure he intended to give them to Alana when he made them, but seeing the empty pot put together in remembrance of a baby they had never had the opportunity to meet it seemed like it was what he should do with   
them. He fished some wooden skewers out of the drawers behind them and used some green twine to wind the flowers onto them before handing them back to Alana who arranged them around the pot. She seemed to have a natural insight for aesthetics and he knew they looked a good deal prettier than if he had organised them for her. 

Having completed their task Alana sat back against the wooden bench and watched the rain, suddenly looking worn out. Will did not underestimate the physical toll that emotional work took upon a person, he knew himself that the cases they worked often left him feeling physically drained and in those instances he doubted he was dealing with a situation as personal or intimate as Alana   
faced currently. He wondered whether Freddie had kept her silence on Alana's pregnancy or whether when they returned to work Alana would have to deal with telling colleagues she had miscarried. He wondered if Jack had spoken to Freddie, or if he would be able to contact her without Alana noticing and update her and request her discretion. If discretion was a skill that Freddie possessed at all. Will slid into the bench beside Alana, aware he didn’t really know what to do next, but watching the rain with her seemed like as good an idea as any.

"How are you doing?" He asked her. It was a little unnecessary really, her posture against him was slack as she allowed him to take the weight of her upright position, it was clear she was exhausted by the days activities but he remained unsure as to whether she would verbalise it.

She held her silence a moment as her finger played along the seam in her trousers aimlessly, "Tired. A little nauseous again, I guess because I'm tired."

He nodded, "Hold over from drinking?"

She considered her reply, "No, doesn't feel like it. I'm just tired, I suppose I haven't kicked all the symptoms yet. It's not too bad, I don't feel as awful as I did, but I might go lay down for a while."

"Sure, good idea." He told her. Will was unsure whether he was relieved or alarmed that she had suggested going for a nap, it was the first time he had seen her make any sort of concession to how she physically felt. He stood and took her hand to help her up from the bench, she took her time adjusting her posture and he saw her face pale, it was evident all they had done in the last 24 hours had been too much, even though it had all been in the confines of his home. He tried not to furrow his brow in concern and add the weight of his own concerns to her burden. Instead he positioned her in front of him in the hopes she would be too tired to read him as he knew she could. Will restrained himself and stopped his impulse to physically support her as she made her way to the bedroom, he could easily read the relief on her face as she laid herself back against the pillows. He placed a glass of water down next to her with a gentle kiss on the forehead and left her to rest. When he looked back into the room from the lounge she was already sleeping, her posture slack, her face retaining an expression which reflected all of the stresses that had been placed upon her over the last few days.

Will sighed deeply as he sank back into the sofa, what he really wanted was to lay down with Alana and comfort her in some way. He felt though that she needed space, everything had moved so quickly between them and neither of them were used to being with another person in such intimate circumstances, or for any length of time. Having by-passed the dating phase altogether they seemed to have fallen into a relatively serious relationship and it had already changed both of them. He idly turned his phone over to face him, it had been laying face down, switched to silent, he was surprised to see a text message alert displayed on the screen. Very few people ever sent him a text message, most preferring to call instead. His eyebrows raised to see the message was from Margot, inviting him to coffee the following day. He had filed away his brief liaison with her, the product of two confused minds who had been under the influence of Hannibal’s manipulations, he was surprised to see her reach out to him in this way. He had never ascertained why she had initiated their encounter that night, and in truth he wasn’t sure why he had reciprocated apart from a need for human contact and affection after returning home from his internment. Though he generally returned contact straight away if he could, Will decided it could wait until another time. Perhaps if Alana did decide to go into work over the weekend to catch up he would catch up with Margot and lay to rest his curiosity over why she had sought him out. He thought it likely that she wished to discuss Hannibal and his apprehension, they had not turned on the news coverage but he had no doubt that by now it was all over every news channel. He knew he would not be spared, having been previously imprisoned for the same crimes, but he hoped Alana’s name and profile had stayed out of the coverage, she was hurt enough. Hannibal had ended the lives of an as of yet unascertained number of people, but Will was unsure that he considered it good fortune that he and Alana had escaped with theirs. Hannibal had contaminated their personal and professional lives and had brought a tragedy to bare on Alana that neither of them had seen coming, Will wondered what the price of restoration would be for them.

 

Although it was the weekend Alana decided she wanted to check in at her office the following morning. Will agreed and tried to suspend his worry over whether she was ready, or fit enough, or even rested enough. He knew the academic facility which housed her office would be mostly empty on a weekend and it would allow her to work without being interrupted or having to deal with the questions and comments of coworkers, for today anyway.

Alana allowed Will to escort her to her office, feeling like a fraud in the empty building and turned to face her desk as he departed. In the middle of her usually ordered environment was a haphazard pile of mail interspersed with patient files awaiting review and updating. Putting the paper work aside for a moment Alana logged into the computer system, it ran slow as usual and she left it to download her emails as she made herself a cup of tea. She still could not tolerate coffee, even the smell, and she wondered whether that would ever change, currently she could not see a time when it would, the sensation was so strong. It was the first time she had been really on her own since, well she found out she was pregnant, and she had expected her mind to drown in thoughts she had kept at bay but it didn’t. Perhaps her processing ability was burned out, overloaded. Perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad thing. She had often and recently confessed to being cursed by over thinking, at the moment she was struggling to put together a single salient thought. She dropped herself into her chair facing the screen, she could not suppress a groan at the sight of over one hundred messages waiting for her response. She sipped her tea as she reversed the usual order in which she viewed her inbox so that older messages, those that had been waiting longest were displayed at the top. Mostly they were requests for or acknowledgements of receipt for patient evaluations and she forwarded them onto the appropriate folders for action or archiving. Although she couldn’t have said she was immersed in concentration on her task she didn’t hear the footfall approaching her office until someone rapped against on the door.

“Yes?” she called, wondering who would know she was even here beside Will. She realised she should not have wondered when Freddie Loundes entered. Of course she would know she had come here today.

“Dr Bloom.” she said with a slight nod as she sat, uninvited, in the chair across the desk from her.

“Freddie, I have work to catch up on, whatever you want I can’t help you.” she told her, without looking up from the screen as she slipped her bruised hands out of Freddie’s view as subtly as she could.

Freddie sat back against her chair for a moment, appearing to consider her response, “Jack updated me. I was very sorry to hear about what happened.”

Alana let the statement sit for a moment between them, unsure how she was supposed to respond, she placed her hand back on the desk realising the gesture had been foolish, “Thank you.” she murmured, without emotion or any real gratitude.

Freddie crossed her fingers and leaned forward against the desk, “I wanted to assure you that no mention of this…aspect will appear in anything I author. And since the only sources of information on this are you, Jack, Will, me and your medical records I think you can be reassured this won’t be reported on.”

Alana nodded her head, “Thank you.” she said again, this time with genuine gratitude.

Freddie shrugged, “Yes well, I don’t want to detract from the main story, which is of course myself. I make a sympathetic character out of you and my book sales nose dive.”

Alana nodded again, “Well, thank you anyway.”

“Just don’t tell anyone it would really affect my reputation.”

Alana snorted, looking up from her computer screen for the first time since the other woman entered, “Those bruises are coming along nicely.” she said, noting that far from concealing them Freddie had chosen a wide necked top which drew attention to her neck line and purple finger imprints which marred it.

“As are yours.” she said as she gestured to the hands Alana had attempted to conceal from her examination.

“I think they had trouble getting a line in.” Alana muttered as she flexed her fingers in front of her, realising the concealment would never have been a success.

“I’m surprised Will has allowed you out of his sight, he seems to have become your personal body guard and attendant.” Freddie tilted her head as she spoke, examining the office around her. She had never been inside before, mainly accosting Alana as she walked if she had a reason to speak to her, she knew it wasn’t generally the place to find her. Alana worked in a number of departments on a number of sites and took up most of her time with clinical work, catching up with paperwork in the evenings.

Alana paused before she replied, Freddie always had her on her guard, unsure where the line between on the record and off lay she generally assumed that everything she said was fair game for publication and monitored it as such, “He’s been very supportive.” she half conceded, half agreed.

“Protective, concerned, a girl could get used to that.”

“Are you digging Freddie?”

“I’m wondering where your relationship with him lies now. Now that Hannibal is out of your picture.”

Alana pursed her lips as she leaned across the desk a little, “My personal life, Will’s personal life is not going to be covered in a public statement.”

Freddie did not show any disappointment, she shrugged, “Everything is so murky, where exactly are the boundaries in your relationships?”

“They are at appropriate positions Freddie, and also not for public consumption.” she told her, firmly but not with hostility.

Freddie shrugged, “Can’t blame me for trying.”

Alana raised her eyebrows in response, “I’m sure no one is really interested in whatever may or may not be between Will and I.”

“I think you underestimate how interesting people find anything and anyone connected with serial killers. So, where is Will? Out with his dogs?”

“He’s meeting someone, he does have conversations with people beside Jack and I you know.”

“Really? Well, I would love to be a fly on wall of those conversations.” 

 

Will tapped his fingers against the table absentmindedly. He didn’t want to be here, actually there was a long list of places he didn’t want to be and in general sitting in a coffee shop topped every list he had ever formulated. He could feel as he ran his fingers over the top the texture of the table had been permanently altered by constant wiping with abrasive cleaning products which had built up in a sticky residue in any imperfections on the surface. He hated these pockets of forced civility and had never to his knowledge or memory ever purchased a coffee for any other purpose than to take it away from this enforced closed quarters caffeine market. His unhappy brooding was broken as a women sat down opposite him, forcing his attention from the over-cleaned and under-rinsed table top.

“Hello Will.” Margot Verger said as she took a sip from the glass of ice water she held.

“Margot.” he said in response, regarding her cooly.

“Thank you for meeting me, I realise you’re probably busy.” she told him quietly.

He nodded, “You heard about Doctor Lecter?”

Margot pursed her lips and twisted her glass on the table before she spoke, “I did.”

“I can’t tell you anything about that situation Margot, if that’s what you wanted-“

She stopped him with the wave of a hand, “No, it isn’t” she took another sip of water before continuing, “hearing about Doctor Lecter’s…incarceration…has made me question some of his techniques and influences on me over the last several months.”

“It should, I’m glad, but I don’t know what I can do to help you, if you need another psychiatrist you can get a referral.”

Margot shook her head, “I think I’m done with psychiatrists.”

“I can understand that.”

“No, that isn’t what I wanted to speak to you about. One of my sessions with Doctor Lecter led me to knock on your door, led me to spend time with you, for a specific purpose.”

Will sat back against his chair and away from the table, suddenly feeling like Margot had placed an axe over his head.

“I’m pregnant, Will. I wanted that, I wanted to have a child that could be a Verger heir so I can stop running from my brother.”

Will felt his stomach drop so hard he was surprised he hadn’t heard it actually hit the floor. He was momentarily silenced, unable to articulate anything, unsure there was actually a cogent thought in his head at that moment.

“I’m sorry Will.” she said quietly, “I took what I wanted and I didn’t think about anything else. Seeing what Doctor Lecter was actually capable of I realise his prompting wasn’t the best advice.”

“I don’t believe this.” Will said with a shake of his head.

“I’m not being histrionic when I say that my brother will kill me if he finds out,” she went on, not giving him time to react or process, “I’m going away, where he can’t find me for a while, it’s better if you don’t know where.”

“You want my help?” 

She shook her head, slowing the pace of her speech, realising she had raced the information at him, “No, I just…I would have just gone, it might have been safer for you if I did, but…I didn’t want to be anymore dishonest to you than I already have been.”

Will stared at Margot across the table, unsure how to respond. All sense of what his emotional state was had fled his consciousness, her words played in a loop in his head until they were melded into Alana’s self same confession in his kitchen. 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“I know, I’m sorry. I just need you to know I’m not hiding from you and I know this isn’t fair.”

“Nothing about this is fair, Margot.” he said angrily, more angrily than he should have.

Margot tilted her head as she regarded him, “What is it?”

He waved the question away, trying to disperse his thoughts of Alana with his gesture, but he could not, “I…I am in a relationship…this…this is complicated.”

“I know. You don’t need to do anything, say anything you don’t want to. I owed you the choice that’s all.”

He nodded, “Thank you.”

“I have to go,” she pushed a phone across the table to him, “I have this number, I’ll call from a disposable cell or text, whatever, you can ignore it, it’s fine, just, you have the option.”

He took it and placed it in his pocket, and watched her receding back as she strode out toward the street. Will dropped his gaze to the table, examining the surface again, delaying the moment he had to leave. Delaying, he knew, the moment he would be forced to drop this on Alana. His stomach twisted at the thought of it but he knew he had to tell her the truth, now. They had promised to be honest with one another, no matter what. This would be a barb to her no matter when he told her, knowing he had withheld it from her would only make it more painful. He only hoped it was not the fatal blow to their brand new relationship, it had already had its fair share of trauma in just a few days. He had to wonder how much their capacity for recovery would be tested this time.

Will had thought that his return journey to collect Alana would be quick, that he would be eager to get back to her knowing he hadn’t wanted to leave her alone it being the first time he had done so. Instead he found himself driving slower than usual and taking more care and notice than was strictly necessary. What he had to tell her sat in his stomach heavily like a poison. He wished not for the first or last time that they had not promised one another honesty. He was going to hurt her. Badly. He already had, he was just trying to work out how to deliver the final blow with as much compassion as he could because he knew he had to deliver it. As he approached her office door he could see the light from her office spilling into the corridor, he was aware that his heart rate increased as he approach the doorway, anticipation, but not the good kind. He allowed himself a quiet moment in the doorway to observe her as she read a paper on her desk. She had not heard his footfall and continued to read as her finger unconsciously rolled her pen back and forth on the desktop. 

“Hey.” he said quietly so as not the startle her.

She looked up with a smile, “Hey yourself.” she replied, her smile faded somewhat and became uncertain as she took in his demeanour, “Are you OK?”

Reluctantly he crossed through the door to face her at her desk, he didn’t sit down, feeling as though he didn't deserve that much comfort. Another reason he had to tell her, quite apart from their honesty promise she could read him fairly easily and he should have known he was preoccupied straight away.

“Yeah, I just…got some news i need to discuss with you.”

She closed the paper in front of her so she was not splitting her attention as she raised her eyebrows in concern, “Do you want to go home first? What’s wrong?” 

Will shook his head lightly as he slipped into the chair opposite her, he needed the physical barrier to curb his instinct to reach out to her, since he was the one who was hurting her in this instance he wasn’t sure of how much comfort he would be.

“I met someone for coffee,” he hesitated as Alana nodded her acknowledgement, she known this already, “Margot, she was also a patient of Hannibal’s.”

“OK.” Alana said evenly, warily.

“Sometime ago she began visiting me at home, we slept together.”

She swallowed hard, “You're in a relationship with her?”

He shook his head, “No, I’m not…well, Margot …she’s a lesbian. I didn’t know what she wanted, but it wasn’t me. She wanted a child to usurp her brother, who has a fairly large sadistic and homicidal streak.” He stopped abruptly realising he was rambling a little.

Alana was nodding slowly as she processed the information, “She’s pregnant.” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“With your baby.”

Will nodded and paused before he continued more slowly, “She wasn’t going to tell me, just disappear, she's afraid of her brother.”

Alana brought her fingers to her lips as she fought back tears, “Sorry.” she choked.

“No, I’m sorry.” Will said as he shook his head, “I knew this would hurt you, but I couldn’t keep it from you.”

“I know.” she whispered as she wiped her eyes, “Thank you for not lying.”

Will was lost for words, he could feel the hurt radiating from her again, he had just rubbed salt into wounds that had barely begun to heal.

“You wanna go home?” she asked.

He cleared his throat, startled, “I can drop you at your place, if you’d rather.”

She shook her head, “No it’s OK. I can't pretend i’m not upset but you didn't do this on purpose. Lets just see how we go.”


	13. Reflection

How they went was in silence. Thick, heavy silence. Silence that Will felt he could almost touch. He attempted to ignore his own thought processes spinning and just concentrate on the road, he was not entirely successful. Beside him in the passenger seat Alana sat stiff and straight. Will had realised by now that effort to hold herself together emotionally spilled over into her physicality and reflected readily in her posture and affect. She stared straight ahead. Her gaze burning through the windshield in her attempt to keep her gaze from him. Will felt her distress despite her best efforts to contain it away from him, that required no special skill or insight, it took no special wisdom to know that the circumstances they found themselves in were excruciating to her and in turn to him. He would rather go through it himself than bare the responsibility for hurting her. 

As Will pulled the car to a stop outside the house they both hesitated a beat, Will debated reaching across to touch Alana as he had done many times over the last few days, but before he could Alana released her seatbelt and swung out of the vehicle, his half-started gesture hung in the air above the console as Alana swung the door shut sharply making him wince slightly. Will followed her lead, trailing in her route to the house. His door remained unlocked and he watched her pass through, relieved to see her posture relaxed a little as she passed into the familiar space. He understood this mechanism, that even though her current increase in distress had its origins in the situation he had disclosed, being somewhere less public and more enclosed allowed her to feel like she could process it more safely. 

He watched as she removed her coat and shoes, immediately an inch shorter for the loss of the heels she habitually wore. 

"I'm gonna walk the dogs, will you be ok here?" He asked her gently, he laid a hand on the small of her back and was pleased when she allowed herself to lean back into it. 

"Sure, do you mind if a take a shower?" She asked turning to face him. 

He shook his head, "No of course not," though he was puzzled as they both already had that morning, "I'll make some dinner when I get back."

She nodded, leaning up to his lips to press a gentle kiss against them. Will enjoyed her warmth and proximity but didn't push it, he responded without going any further than she indicated. He felt the loss of contact when they broke apart and couldn't help but feel the pull of longing that made him want to stay beside her no matter what.

Despite that impulse which made he want to guard Alana like a watch dog Will realised he had spent longer than he intended roaming the grass with the dogs, a quick check of his watch told him it was after dinner time as he headed back. The sky had turned dark and he could see a light on inside as he approached the front of the house. He opened the door to let the dogs pile in ahead of him, Alana would probably be glad of their company above his given the news he had laid onto her that afternoon. Entering the living area he couldn't immediately see her, but smiled a little when he spotted her flat out across the sofa. His slightly amusement quickly switched to a lurch deep in his stomach as he noticed the rest of the scene in front of him. On the table stood an empty beer bottle, and beside it several orange medication containers, one of them spilled across the table.

“Oh shit.” he whispered as he bolted across the room to crouch by Alana. He pushed the hair back away from her face roughly as he took her by the shoulders, “Alana?”

The response he got was not what he expected, far from the groggy reduced responsiveness he expected Alana’s eyes shot open wide in panic, her arm pushing him off roughly as she sat up so fast they crashed foreheads, “Jesus Christ, Will, what’s that matter?” they regarded each other for a moment, slightly breathless.

“I..uh…” he was caught short for an explanation as she followed his gaze to the table. 

“Is the beer off or something?” she asked him, puzzled.

“I thought you weren’t going to take the pain killers from the hospital?” he asked, finally noting what the bottles actually were, one aspirin, one painkillers, the other the antibiotics she had been prescribed.

Alana pushed herself up further, bringing her legs up underneath her so she was no longer lying underneath him, “Will,” she said evenly, “I’m cramping, and bleeding and I just wanted a rest from it. I knew if I took one with some alcohol I’d sleep for a while. Not the most responsible attitude I know but I just wanted to rest ok?”

“They're all over the table!” he exclaimed more sharply than he had intended.

“I must not have fastened the top properly, sorry.” she shrugged, “What’s the matter Will?”

He shook his head, “I got the wrong idea, I need to drink less coffee.”

Alana inclined her head as she looked at his demeanour, winding down from a state of what was unmistakably panic, she nodded slowly, “I only took 2, the prescribed dose. I admit swallowing a handful with a shot probably crossed my mind, but only to shut out everything.”

Will pursed his lips, “Sorry, I panicked. I don’t mean to put any more concerns on you than you have already. I just… you’ve been so averted to using meds, you looked unconscious, there were containers open on the table.”

She nodded, “I know, sorry, I guess everything got on top of me.”

“Is the pain worse? Do you need to see someone?” he asked more gently, stroking her arm.

Alana shook her head, “No, I think i just needed to make it stop for a while, to process. It was taking up too much of my head.”

“Psychological coping is highly influential of perception of pain.”

She nodded, “The cramping,…bleeding…my body is still reminding me that theres something missing.”

“And I remind you that other people can carry on having that.” he said quietly.

“If it wasn’t you it would be someone else. A stroller on the street, a baby at the grocery store.”

“But i’m mirroring our situation at you, an unplanned baby, a father out of the picture.”

Alana shook her head as she pulled herself up to her feet and away from Will, “It’s not the same, I know that, but I can’t think about it right now Will.”

“I know.”

“And you can’t not think about it.” she intoned sadly, "so right now it's just sitting there, between us and I have no right to be angry with you because I have no claim on you or your actions and the things you have done for me are above and beyond what I should ever have asked for. But I can't talk about this with you, or help you, or advise, or comfort you the way you did for me because I can't get past losing my own baby right now, I still feel it, physically. And I wished that baby had been yours but I would never wish it's loss on you, but I do wish your baby did not exist and that makes me an awful person, to wish this on another person, on someone I care about."

"Ssshhhhhh." Will insisted with a gentle finger on her lips, "you can't control how you feel and however you feel it's ok."

"I took the strong painkillers because I wanted a rest from all of this and I don't especially care how that happens. I can't even begin to process our involvement with Hannibal." 

Will was silenced momentarily, the weight of everything surrounding them was oppressive. Statistics about relationships which begin under stressful circumstances were filtering through his mind, none of them were encouraging.

"I don't know how to help you." He said finally, "It was easier when you needed help, physically. I can do that."

"No one can fix it for me, Will. It isn't a reflection on you." She assured him, "I don't know what to tell you."

"And I don't know what to tell you, but it's all just sitting between us Alana."

"I can't resolve it right now." She told him flatly, "if you need that, then I should go because I can’t face it.”

Will watched her examine her finger tips for a moment, unable to raise her gaze to his, “I don’t want you to go anywhere, we don’t have to do anything you're not ready for.”

“Thank you.” she whispered hoarsely, before refocusing herself, “Dinner?” she asked.

“It would seem to be a requirement at this time of day.” he rose and Alana allowed him to at least pretend to help her to her feet though he doubted that she needed it.

They cooked together with few words, but the quiet this time was not uncomfortable, they moved easily around one another until Will noticed Alana’s concentration drift as she stared at the work top. He approached her from behind and gently laid his hands on her shoulders, they relaxed under his touch, the warmth having drawn her attention to how tense and drawn she was. She allowed herself to sink into his touch as he lowered his lips to the side of her head, “I can hear your mind turning over.” he whispered, “it sounds worn out.” he gently swept her hair to the side and laid a kiss on the curve of her neck.

She let go of a long sigh, “It is, I am.” she agreed quietly.

Will ran his palms down her back to rest at her hips, hoping the movement would help dissipate some of the tension in her muscles, following her natural lines his hands slipped forward and rested on her abdomen, her hands came down to join his and for a moment he thought she was going to rip his away but she placed hers on top of his and interlaced their fingers as she dropped her head forward to see their hands locked together. They stood for a moment in the quiet, joined at the finger tips, both examining the grip they had on one another until Will broke the silence.

“I wish the baby had been ours too,” he told her softly, “I wish that there was something I could do to undo all of this.”

“I know.” she replied as she pivoted in his arms, bringing herself round to face him. They stood, almost touching, for a few seconds before Alana leaned in and closed the space between them. She kissed him slowly, deeply, enjoying the sensation of the heat of him against her in the darkness behind her closed eyes. She felt his posture shift as he allowed his hands to wander up her back to pull her into him more fully, she shifted her weight back without thinking to keep them balanced and prevent their contact breaking. Her own hands seemed to have taken on a journey of their own as one cupped the side of his face and the other held onto his hip lightly. They broke apart momentarily to catch a breath before Will came forward to recapture her lips, this time with more intensity. He was deeply committed by the time he realised he had her pushed up against the kitchen counter and she had wrapped a leg around around him to draw him in as far as possible. Abruptly he broke off, bracing himself against the worktop as he breathed the scent of her as close as he was.

“Sorry.” he muttered, a little out of breath.

“Don’t apologise.” she smiled, “You were just trying to give my mind a rest.”

"Well maybe I need some new material." He quipped as they disentangled from one another and sat down to eat.


	14. Education

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains mature content, if you're not mature don't read it!

They lay closely entwined in the darkness, their dinner though simple lay heavily on Alana's stomach and she was too uncomfortable for sleep. With her head rested on Will's bare chest she listened to his slow even breathing and his steady heart beat. She tried not to think of the occasions where she had lay like this with Hannibal but the thoughts and comparisons came to her mind against her wishes. Hannibal's prescience and physicality had dominated her senses, pleasantly overwhelming them at times. Will being beside her, holding her was entirely different. She felt attuned to him in a way that made her see clearly the gaps in her connection with Hannibal. He had given her just enough to feed her belief that she knew him and that he was invested in their relationship without allowing her any real insight. With Will she felt his commitment to her at a visceral level, he displayed it in the way he touched her and regarded her, he never needed to utter a word for her to feel it, to know it.

"You OK?" He asked her softly.

She sighed, "Yeah, I just don't feel so good. I'm ok though." 

"You want some water, pain meds?"

"No, thanks. Just laying here is good. Talk to me about something, anything that means nothing to either of us."

Will considered for a moment, "I've often thought about why my students choose my courses. I mean, I know why I did it, my means of understanding needed clarifying and structure for me, but why would your average teenager want to study criminology? I think I've come to the conclusion that within my classes there's a high proportion of young people with a history of abuse, or dysfunctional parental relationships and the rest have a genuine leaning toward psychological evaluation and study. I imagine they're the minority though. But what they all have in common is they're trying to give order to their thoughts, either their thoughts about experiences in their lives or just order the way they think about human interaction."

Alana smiled in the darkness, "I wouldn't take a poll in class Will, you might end up as a victim support counsellor."

"I'm not sure I'd be suited to that role." He answered, adjusting his arm to hold her against him more deliberately. His mind wandered back to laying with her in this bed on another occasion. Both of them pleasantly exhausted and numbed from sex. The natural endorphins in their systems, making them both sleepy and content, neither of them aware of what was about to face them. He wished they could recapture that moment and freeze it. Not necessarily the sex, though of course his mind wandered to that too, but that briefly carefree snippet where Alana had laid on him bonelessly as they both caught their breath, their minds empty of any worries, including Hannibal Lecter. And then their world unravelled. But they were trying to put it back together, Will just wasn't sure what it would look like, it's difficult to build something without a blueprint. 

"What does that say about those of us who do this as a job?" She asked him. 

"That we'd rather be on this side of the microscope." He told her with certainty. 

She smiled into his chest, for a moment enjoying his openness with her as she listened to canine footsteps pace around the bed in what imagined the dog thought was a stealthy manner. Will was stroking her hair absently, somehow it was keeping time with his breathing though she doubted he was doing that purposefully. She felt her self begin to relax, the sensation of being pleasantly lulled washing over her, the tension in her jaw releasing. She adjusted her position so she was flat against Will, her leg hooked around his. Beside them a dog let out a dramatic sigh and flopped onto the floor after a few moments of hopeful staring trying to illicit an invitation to join.

"I think Winston is resenting my being in your bed." Alana told him. 

"No I suspect he resents my being in my bed, he clearly has a crush on you." Will told her earnestly. 

Alan laughed lightly, "Well I'm flattered." She told him, allowing her eyes to drift closed a little, tiredness swaddling her like a blanket. 

Will noted her more relaxed posture against him and gently hooked the blanket with his finger to drape over them, tucking it across Alana's shoulder to make sure she stayed warm.

"Thank you." She said softly, her voice already heavy with the promise of sleep. 

Will's mind wandered to Hannibal and their utter reversal of fates. It was not that long ago that Will had been locked inside an institution while his imaginings of Hannibal and Alana together had filled him with dread. Hannibal's veiled threats and references to her entering into a relationship with him had terrified him in a way Will had previously not thought possible and his mind would not stop playing images of the two of them, intimate in the plush interior of Hannibal's home, a stark contrast to his own surroundings and company. This evening their roles were perfectly reversed and he liked to imagine that Alana felt safer here with him than she had in Hannibal's company. He wondered if the other man considered them in the way Will had, or whether he had detached from that relationship. Indeed he did not seem to react in any way that resembled a former lover when Alana recently spoke with him, though Will certainly was aware he could not rely on his own analytical skills with regard to Hannibal Lecter. They were compromised, all of them, like satellites knocked out of their orbits and they needed to get back on track. Perhaps it would not be the same track as before, it was likely they were too far off now to ever go back.

 

Jack sat opposite Will, his entire form radiating the kind of despair a father might have for a teenage son's behaviour. 

"How...is Alana with this...development?" He said slowly, a flick of his hand emphasising the last word.

Will's lips were a thin line as he considered both Jack's question and his own response, "I dropped her back at her place this morning. It's the first time she has wanted to go home since..." He mirrored Jack's hand gesture, signalling his awareness of the futility of outlining the complexities that had arisen over the last few days. He could have been referring to any of it, the pregnancy, Hannibal's capture, the miscarriage, it didn't matter it was the first time Alana had asked to be away from him through out all that. He felt he had ruined her safe haven, left her with no one to take refuge in.

"You spoke about this...situation though?"

Will nodded, "We tried, she couldn't face it."

"That's understandable."

"Yes." Will agreed, "She's mad as hell."

Jack raised his eyebrows, surprised at Will's observation, Alana was not the silent rage type, if she was mad at Will he would have expected her to be here yelling at him until she was satisfied she had gotten through, "She has a right to be."

"Yes but she's mad at herself. For being involved with Hannibal, for getting pregnant, for loosing the baby."

"There no guilt to be assigned there, she's not to blame for any of those things, she's not responsible for anything that happened." Jack told him with certainty.

"I know that Jack, but she feels like one led to another. Hannibal drugged her, used her as an alibi, she feels like he could have been apprehended earlier if she weren't involved."

"He drugged her?"

"There were traces of benzo's in her system he would have easy access." Will muttered a little unwillingly.

"What about you?"

Will tilted his head in a confused expression, "I doubt he drugged me recently Jack."

Jack shook his head and raised his eyes to the ceiling, "I meant how do you feel Will?"

Will took his time again in answering Jack's question, "I was ready to be a father to Alana's baby, this isn't how I envisioned this situation would work out. I'll do whatever I can to have a relationship with my child, whatever the circumstances."

"No matter the cost for your relationship with Alana?" Jack intoned.

"I was ready to parent another man's baby for her, I'm not asking her to do that but I do want to have a relationship with my child if that's possible. I understand this is going to be incredibly painful for Alana, I won't be pushing it with her anymore than I have to."

"You think she won't read it every time a thought about that baby flicks through your mind, that that won't hurt her, despite both of your best efforts?"

"You think I don't see it every hour of every day when her loss is written on her face? You think I don't already feel how much she hurts? You think I don't see her panic when she remembers bits of the night she almost bled to death in my bed, Jack, do you really think I don't see it? Don't feel it?" Will knew his volume was rising but he allowed it to do so, Jack had been and would be a willing sounding board for either him or Alana.

Jack raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, "OK, I hear you Will, but one thing is very clear."

"What's that?"

"They should make sex education part of our yearly mandatory training, because clearly psychiatrists are seriously fucking lacking in that area."

 

Will hesitated before getting out of the car when he pulled up at the curb in front of Alan's place. For the first time in a while he felt apprehension about being with her, unsure how their interaction would go. As he approached the door Alana opened, it to his surprise and relief she spared his the palm sweating moments waiting for her to answer his knock. Her posture as she swung it wide to allow his entrance spoke volumes about her state of mind though and the lift he had experienced when she anticipated him knocking rapidly dropped away. Her body position left her closed off from him, twisted away, her eyes on the floor, not meeting his. No greeting, no hostility either though, unless he considered the lack of greeting hostile. Rather than stride into the room Will stepped to the side in the hall so that Alana's path as she closed the door behind them brought her close to him. He placed his palm gently on her shoulder to stop her motion away from him further and leaned forward to capture her lips. Silence seemed to work for them at that moment as Alana responded more enthusiastically than he had expected. She returned his kiss, leaning into him and causing him to shift his weight backwards, his hip finding the wall. Her hand was warm as she brought it up to lay on his cheek, spreading its heat across his neck to the back of his head as it journeyed there. He felt her take in a deep breath, the prelude to a sigh he thought at first then realised it was not the sad expression he had anticipated, she was inhaling his smell as he had done many times in proximity to her, the difference being she was not hiding it.

"That was...." He mumbled.

"Nice?" Alana suggested.

"Unexpected. But nice." He filled.

Alana's evasive posture did not resume, she held him both with her touch and with her eyes which searched his out until he locked gazes with her, "I missed you." She told him, and her eyes made him feel her statement through to his core. 

"I wasn't sure you would." He told her honestly.

She gave a single nod, "I know. I'm sorry, I'm still not ready to really be a part of this situation but I want to be with you, can I ignore it? For now?"

"Can you?"

"Yes, I don't want to be selfish but I can't help you with this, not right now." She told him honestly.

"I understand, you need to recover, that's not selfish Alana."

"It feels it." 

"Then Ignore that feeling too. If it becomes a problem for me I'll tell you ok?"

She nodded her agreement, "What did Jack have to say?" She asked as she led Will away from their position against the hall wall.

"There's nothing new with regard to our mutual friend," he told her, "but he's ready and able to kick my ass for you should you desire it."

Alana smiled, for all his posturing Jack had on occasion assumed an overwhelmingly paternalistic role with those that he trusted, but he always obeyed the professional boundaries that were in place. With all the criss-crossing that had occurred since Hannibal had been introduced into their dynamic their roles with regard to one another had become far less clearly defined and in turn less professionally defined.

Will paused, her grip on him pulling tighter, "Where are we going?" He asked her as she had guided him passed both the living room and kitchen.

She stopped and considered for a moment, her gaze meeting the floor again, "You're going to fulfil a drunken promise." She told him eventually.

"What?" He laughed.

She gestured up the stairs, then continued less awkwardly, "It's day eight, no more antibiotics, no more ...bleeding, no more medical restrictions."

"That is the weirdest way anyone has ever propositioned me." He considered for a moment, "Actually the only way."

"Did it work?" She smiled.

Will smiled back as he slackened the tension on their arms and allowed her to start leading him again, "Of course, I'm not dead." 

As Will let Alana ease him back onto her bed, her bed which sported different bedclothes to those he had seen on their last visit, his mind continued to spin questions at him.

“Alana, are you-?” she cut his question off with her finger placed gently on his lips.

“You don’t need to question my consent Will, I want this. I don’t want to discuss us, I want to feel us.” she told him as she continued to ease him onto his back under her as she brought her legs up either side of his hips to straddle him.

“This morning, you asked to be alone-“

She shook her head, “I asked to come here, to have some time, because I want this. But I couldn’t have it be the same. I don’t want to analyse it, discuss it, I want to feel it. I want to feel you.” she ended in a whisper, their faces millimetres from each other, “You thought you knew what I was thinking, that I was running, but I’m not.”

Will smiled, pleased at the way the outcome of this trip home had been the opposite of what he feared, perhaps when he was closer to someone his ability to read their emotions or intent actually diminished, perhaps his own feelings were clouding his perceptions, his own fears. As he found Alana’s lips his eyes drifted closed to allow his sense of touch to drive him. Will resisted the urge to question Alana’s certainty in what he knew they were about to do, he assured himself that her words and actions were entirely rational, but not analysed. She had allowed herself to be guided by how she felt, she had deliberately sought out another venue to start afresh with him, shed some of the memories that marked the beginning of their intimate relationship and start afresh.

Starting afresh was a lead of hers Will was certainly willing to take. Though he had enjoyed his intimacy with Alana, he had been cautious, wary, afraid he may break her. He would not have categorised himself as particularly rough but he had been restrained and as Alana shifted her weight against him he pulled her tight against him, wanting to feel her form pressed into his. She responded with enthusiasm, kissing him urgently, he felt the heat radiating from her, already so very different from the last time they had been together in this way. Will sat himself up, holding Alana against him to bring her with him, as she remained seated squarely in his lap. He brought his hands up to her top and gently released the buttons as he watched her face. Alana’s eyes had drifted closed as she too concentrated on the sensations between them, he noticed her breathing deepen as his hands continued their journey down toward her waist. She shrugged her top away, paying no attention to where it landed as Will took his turn to guide her. He used his weight to pull her down with him and their momentum to flip them so that she was now underneath him. She smiled girlishly at his manoeuvre as she reached up to return the favour in relieving him of his shirt, her fingers working more quickly than his had. He hovered over her, nose to nose, a playful smile on his face which was reflected back at him by hers. He held her gaze for a breath then pressed their lips together, this time allowing his hands to roam over her, down her sides and around to her back. She arched under him and he used the opportunity to reach up to unbuckle her bra. It came away with remarkable ease and he slipped it off her and tossed it away without breaking the connection between them. He slipped his hands back underneath her, cradling her against him at the same time as taking some of his upper body weight off her while allowing his hips to rest firmly against hers. Will was taken by surprise when she reached down to where their hips met and caressed him with the length of her hand, stroking him deftly and leaving him somewhat breathless, his face pressed into her neck as he breathed her scent deeply. His jeans now felt so constricting he thought he might tear them off at that moment, but she seemed to have read his mind, aware of the effect of her ministrations she loosened her touch on him to switch her attention to the buttons which restrained him. He was soon entirely naked and feeling somewhat at a disadvantage, here in her bedroom as she was still at least half clothed. He set about rectifying that situation as he slipped his hands inside her underwear and pulled her hips into him with a hand on each buttock, then he switched his grip and dragged the rest of the clothes down off her and away. She smiled up at him in satisfaction, enjoying the feeling of their skin pressing against each other without barriers and let her hands wander over the curves of his back in long, light feathered strokes.

Will let his fingers drift up her thigh to the warmth between her legs, her slight tilt of her hips all the invitation he needed. Gently he dipped two fingers inside her as he pressed his lips against hers, enjoying catching her slight gasp with his mouth. As he slowly withdrew his fingers he curled them to apply pressure to her walls, creating a seemingly involuntary thrust of her hips in response to the increased friction inside her. As he playfully massaged her perineum with his now slick fingers she ached for his touch elsewhere and tried to resist the urge to direct him to where she wanted him most. He didn't make her wait long as he brushed his fingers over her again without penetrating her and pulled his touch to the bundle of nerves which were already on fire waiting to any contact. 

Alana bit down on her lip to suppress a moan as he lightly drew two fingers down the sides of her clit, slowly, teasingly. He felt himself twitch in anticipation but for now concentrated on Alana. He continued slow, ghosting strokes, watching her face twist in pleasure, as she struggled to keep her eyes from drifting shit and letting the sensation take over. Alana felt her hips adopt a rhythm of their own, almost beyond her control and she fought to keep herself from bucking against Will's hand, not wanting to loose contact with that delicious light stroke. She gasped sharply as he changed from his slow encouragement and began to pulse his finger against the tip of her clit, his touch barely perceptible, so light she wasn't sure that she wasn't imagining it. If she was she had a damn fine imagination. She could feel the muscles between her legs grown tighter and tighter as she arched to him with a low moan, "Oh God, Will, stop!”

With a poorly disguised sigh of disappointment Will stilled his fingers but left them in place against her hot centre, “Umm, that’s not what I expected to hear at this point.” he whispered.

Alana shook her head, “No I mean, not like this, together, I want to feel you inside me Will.”

He buried his head in the crook of her neck as he stifled a giggle, “I was just about to throw myself in an ice bucket.”

Alana slipped his grip and slid herself underneath him so he was positioned at her entrance, tilting her hips against him she pressed herself against him, “Please don’t do that.” she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow, attempting to keep his desire to push into her hard and fast off his face, instead he watched her expression as he slowly entered her, painstakingly sliding deeper until he was buried in her, a gratifying sigh leaving her lips. Fully inside her, their hips pressed together he wasn’t how long he would be able hold back slamming into her and was glad she was almost at the point of release when she intervened. Never breaking eye contact with her he slowly pulled almost all the way out of her, pausing just inside her entrance long enough for Alana to grab his buttocks and pull him back inside her all the way, unable to wait any longer to feel his length inside her. He continued this way his thrusts becoming more and more urgent, slow, deep, hard he pushed into her until she was breathless and finally bucked underneath him with a startled cry, “ooooh gooooodd.” she virtually sang as he felt her muscles clamp and spasm around him as the tilt of her hips buried him so deep inside her. One hand grasped his butt, finger nails digging in time with her groans as the other slipped to where they were joined and massaged him, obliterating any modicum of control he had as his gasps now matched hers and he drove himself further and harder, chasing his own release. Finally he gave several uncoordinated jerks before collapsing, this time unable to keep his weight off her. Alana didn’t seem to mind and they lay, breathless, in their four-limbed embrace, still joined at the centre.

 

Alana allowed herself drift into a gentle doze, lulled by their exertion and heat. Beside her Will also lay bonelessly where they fallen, his slightly increased pitch of breathing still matching her own. Her eyes slid closed again as she felt sleepy and satisfied, not particularly caring that her clean sheets were stuck to both their sweaty bodies and that they were damp beneath her. When she pulled herself awake Will had wrapped a blanket around them both, the heat of their bodies long since dissipated, their limbs remained wrapped around one another and she became aware of what an awkward position she had fallen asleep in when she raised her head to meet Will’s gaze and all the muscles in her neck and back protested.

He met her gaze with a soft smile, his face and posture reflected how she felt, her body still nicely full of post-coital endorphins, joints lax and mind unwilling to rouse herself from this semi-stupor. Reluctantly she rolled herself onto her side and away from Will slightly, to give her arched back and protesting muscles some relief from the position she had subjected them to. A slight shuffle forward allowed her to remain close to him and diminish the need to unwrap their legs.

“Well,…that was….”

“Nice?” Alana finished for him.

Will seemed lost in consideration for a moment, “I don’t think nice quite covers.”

“No I don’t think it does.” Alana agreed, with a contented sigh.

Will matched her sign before muttering, "I'm thirsty, do you want a cold drink?"

Alana smiled lazily at him, "I'm not sure my legs are functioning just yet."

Will smirked with one raised eyebrow, "I'll take that as a compliment, I’ll get us some drinks.” he offered, slipping from under the covers leaving Alana contemplating the empty space beside her. Alana shifted her position to stare at the ceiling as she listened to Will make his way around her home. The rooms remained a little unfamiliar to him, she could tell from the extra footfall she heard as he retraced steps to find the things he needed. She heard a sudden jump as he turned on the tap, the tap in the kitchen went from drip to raging torrent in half a millimetre turn, she should have warned him, she should also get it fixed. Eventually she heard his tentative steps returning and she propped herself up to greet him with a smile. She tried not to appreciate his semi-dressed state and mussed hair, but couldn't help herself. Much as he had hinted at his self-congratulation for her hazy state she enjoyed knowing that it was her that had brought the flush to his cheeks, and she was sure she could pick out some faint fingernail marks on his sides.

Alana propped herself against the headboard as Will handed her a glass of water before he slid back under the sheet beside her. 

"Thank you." She said as she sipped the cool liquid, glancing at her reflection on the rippling surface as it passed in front of her eyes. The cool clear liquid flicked her mind into reverse to the contrasting dark, bitter glass Hannibal Lecter had brought her while he lay between the sheets with her. Red wine was not her usual drink of choice but he had said their half a glass each was all that remained opened and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. So she capitulated and drained the liquid not knowing what it should taste like, her decision making and awareness already dulled from a modest alcohol intake, the late hour and the pleasant after-sex hum of her body. 

"Alana..." Will's gentle voice and cautious hand on her shoulder brought her back to the surface from the depths of her thoughts.

"Sorry." She muttered, though she wasn't sure why, wasn't sure what she was actually apologising for. Maybe she hadn't been as ready as she thought to wipe the deck clear, her consciousness was finding echoes of Hannibal in her relationship with Will. Of course they would be there the three of them were inextricably linked, but she wished she could will the recall of them to a time and place more distant and controlled than this. 

"Don't apologise, tell me." He replied, in the same soft and even tone.

"He brought me red wine, even though he knew I don't drink it." Alana knew she did not need to supply any of the specifics for Will to know what she was talking about. 

"No need for subtlety when you can use a strong medium."

"I gave him an alibi, are they going to be able to convict him for Gideon?"

Will deliberately evaded a direct answer, "There are other charges, he won't escape accountability for his actions."

Alana ignored his response, since it did not address the question she had asked, "If we submit my chem panel, we can disprove my original statement."

"Alana, he will face judgement, Hannibal Lecter is not worth letting yourself burn for. Destroying your reputation, dragging all of it through the courts, the press, there'll be no control over what comes out."

She turned to face him for the first time since she caught sight of herself in the surface of her water, "He was going to let you rot for what he did, let you fry."

Will shook his head. "That was never his intention, he arranged my innocence once my incarceration no longer amused him."

"ALL his crimes should hang on him Will." She told him with certainty.

"He will take you down with him Alana, if you let him draw you into this, simply because he can."

"He already took me down, Will, he has infiltrated every inch of my life, my friendships, my career, my family, he needs to answer for EVERYTHING he has done, I've stood in the way of that for too long."

"You can't be a one person vengeance movement Alana, because he will use that to take everything you have left. You have to walk away from him and let his path be taken care of by someone else." He told her with certainty, a certainty born out of experience. He had pursued both friendship and a vendetta against Hannibal Lecter and benefited little from either. Only when he had stepped away from his own involvement, when Alana arrived at his door that day, had Lecter actually been apprehended. 

"I don't need to testify, if we submit the tox screen the prosecution can use it to discount my statement." She told him with certainty. 

"And you think that he will let that stand?"

Alana glanced at Will sideways in confusion and irritation, "What do you mean?" Why couldn't he just support her? Agree with her? Surely he wanted to see Hannibal Lecter swing for each and every one of his crimes too?

"I doubt we can prove he was the one who administered it, Alana. He's too careful to have left any prescribing discrepancies. And you have access to medications too." He pointed out. 

"You think he'll allege I self-administered?" She said surprised. 

Will shrugged, "I couldn't predict what he'll do. But both our careers have already suffered damage. That particular accusation might not win him any sway over all, but he would certainly enjoy watching the fall out from uttering those words."

"He wants to watch me burn as much as I want to see him face the consequences of what he's done."

"You have to decide which is most important to you, staying off his radar or watching what happens when you don't." 

Alana examined the sheet that lay over them, suddenly feeling a good deal further away from Will than the inch or so of empty bed between them. "I haven't done anything wrong." She told him quietly. 

Will nodded, reaching out and laying a hand on her shoulder, "He is the only one who has, but he's going to enjoy watching as many people twist for his amusement as he can. I suggest you and I stay clear of his sights."


End file.
